


K^H 



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THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 



BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 

Submarine and Anti - Submarine. With 
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TTiey aZZ started in hi&h spirits." 



[see page 14 



THE BOOK OF 
THE LONG TRAIL 



BY 

HENRY NEWBOLT 

AUTHOR OF * SUBMARINE AND ANTI-SUBMARINE,' 'TALUS Off THE GREAT WAR,' ETO. 



WITH A COLOURED FRONTISPIECE AND 
THIRTY OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS 
BY STANLEY L. WOOD. 



LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO. 

FOURTH AVENUE & 30th STREET, NEW YORK 

39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON 
BOMBAY, CALCUTTA, AND MADRAS 

1919 



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*v£ 



OTKODUCTICXN 

A LETTER TO A BOY 

My dear A., — Here is another book for you, and for 
your sisters too, if they will so far honour me. The 
first thing you will notice about it is that it is not, as 
the other five have been, about war. That may dis- 
appoint you, or it may not : it would have disappointed 
me when I was your age — I loved no stories so well 
as stories of war. 

Why then do I give them* up? Because, though 
I have not changed, war has changed. It still shows 
the finest qualities of men — it shows them leaving 
everything they love best in the world, facing dangers 
and enduring hardships, matching their courage and 
skill against those of the other side, overcoming 
difficulties by land and sea, and all this for an idea, 
the love of their country and that for which their 
country is fighting, the honour and welfare of mankind. 
But unfortunately this is not all that war does : it also 
shows men at their worst. I am not now speaking 
of the unheard-of barbarities committed by one side 
in the late war : I am speaking of certain things done 
by both sides, and quite fair according to the rules 
of war, in fact unavoidable if you are to fight at all 
under modern conditions : millions of men killed or 



s 



vi INTRODUCTION 

mutilated, millions of homes made desolate, houses 
and churches, roads and bridges, orchards, pastures, 
and plough-lands turned to mud and dust- heaps — in 
a word, the life of the world made hideous for years, 
with the survivors glaring at each other across the 
ruins. 

This, as you know, was not always so : nations used 
to fight by teams, as schools do — a small picked army 
on this side against a small picked army on that. Even 
then they did a lot of damage and caused a lot of 
misery ; but the case is a thousand times worse now. 
Now the whole population of each country goes to 
war, the whole world is involved, and the nations 
fight desperately because they fight for their existence 
— world-power or downfall — and they feel that they 
must hack their way through and stick at nothing to 
save themselves. Do you think that this kind of fighting 
can go on ? One such war has brought the world to 
the brink of ruin and starvation : what would another 
leave us ? Can you imagine what would become of 
your school life if in a football match the whole of 
both schools played in one big scrimmage, and a hundred 
boys were killed on each side and a hundred injured 
for life, and both sides always joined in burning down 
the buildings of the school on whose ground the game 
was played ? But that would be very much less cruel 
and absurd than modern war. 

War then must stop, and you will, I hope, have no 
more stories of new wars. But you may have good 
stories for all that — stories of the same races showing 
the same fine qualities, setting the same endurance 
and courage and skill against difficulties and dangers, 
upholding the honour of their country too, and further- 



INTRODUCTION vii 

ing the welfare of all mankind instead of saving part 
at the expense of the rest. 

I daresay you will not agree to this right off : you 
know what you want in a story, you have always got 
it in stories of war, and you can hardly believe you 
will find it anywhere else. Well, let us consider what 
it is that you, and I, have always wanted and found 
in stories of war. Is it an account of the wounds and 
miseries our side have inflicted on the other side, or 
of the sufferings of non-combatants or our own people 
at home ? No, in our stories we have always had to 
leave out that kind of detail : we wanted to forget 
the cruel and wasteful part, and think only of three 
things — first the contest, the struggle against odds and 
obstacles, second the moments of special daring or 
success, and third and best of all, the men who were 
the heroes of these struggles and great moments. 
What did they do, what were they like, how did they 
feel, how did they come to be what they were, great 
men for their country, loved and honoured in their 
own generation and famous for long afterwards ? 

Now if these are really, as I believe they are, the 
points we looked for in our war stories, we can have 
them in plenty without going to the wars for them. 
You will find them all in this book : even if you should 
think it less well arranged or less well written than you 
could wish, still that is only the writer's fault — the 
right stuff is there none the less, the stuff that we 
all want and can never do without. Where will you 
look for finer men than these, or for more honourable 
enterprises than those they undertook, or greater 
dangers and sufferings than theirs, or moments more 
full of daring and excitement ? Every one of them 



viii INTRODUCTION 

was in truth an army commander, though the army 
was only a handful of men and was never out to kill. 
What territories they invaded, these explorers, what 
campaigns they made, what forced marches, what 
flanking movements : how they managed their trans- 
port and commissariat, what risks they took, what 
casualties they suffered, how they supported each 
other, and, when disaster came, what lonely and un- 
defeated deaths they died. If any men were ever 
worth your knowing, these are they : and if you once 
get to know them, first here and then more intimately 
in their own records, you will have nine men to remem- 
ber and admire all your life : and no possession can 
be greater than that. 

There is one more point. Travel and exploration 
are not only as interesting as war in the ways I have 
mentioned : they have also another set of characters 
and experiences which are entirely their own. The 
explorer often has enemies, but he cannot simply 
shoot them down — he must conciliate or outwit them 
without fighting. This is more dangerous, and more 
exciting — think of Burton, disguised for months and 
in danger of his life every hour of every day : or 
of Younghusband riding unarmed into the Tibetan 
camp, and again through the streets of the Forbidden 
City, swarming with fierce and hostile monks. Then 
there is often sheer starvation to be faced : hunting 
to be done not for sport or exercise, but for the next 
meal : friends to be backed or rescued at all costs : 
natives to be traded with, trusted, or guarded against. 
Perhaps in the true explorer's story the natives are 
even more interesting than the countries they live in. 
In this book some of them belong to the ancient races 



INTRODUCTION ix 

of the East, and can only be understood by a Young- 
husband or a Burton : others are just wild children — 
Burke and Wills, Livingstone and Stanley all knew 
how to get the best out of these : others again live 
an ordered but very primitive kind of life, like the 
Red Indians who were so good to Franklin, and the 
men of the Stone Age whom Wollaston describes. 
Some among them even have names, and stand out 
as curious and delightful people. Who would not 
wish to have known Akaitcho and Augustus, Liu- 
san and Wali, the Tongsa Penlop and the Ti Rimpoche ? 
Who would not long for such days of romance as that 
on which Wollaston and his companions at last found 
their way through the forest labyrinth and stood in 
the pygmy village : or that on which the boy of twenty- 
four started alone across the vast Mongolian plain 
in the first freshness of an April morning ? Perhaps 
the start is the best part of a journey : it is fine to 
reach your goal, and to come home in triumph ; but 
finest, I suspect, to be just going across the threshold. 
' How much better, 5 as Scott said at the end, 'than 
lounging in too great comfort at home. 5 

I have said little or nothing of Scott : I have been 
allowed to tell his story mainly in his own words, and 
I would not add to them if I could. If you do not 
love him and Wilson and Bowers and Oates, then this 
book can be of no use to you. But I think I know 
you better. 

Yours ever, 

HENRY NEWBOLT. 



CONTENTS 



I. JOHN FRANKLIN 

SECTION 

1. The Traveller Born 

2. The Expedition to the North- West 

3. Driven into Winter Quarters 

4. Overland to the Polar Sea . 

5. The Barren Grounds 

6. Red Men, Best and Worst . 



PAGE 
1 

4 
13 
18 
24 
31 



II. RICHARD BURTON 



1. Ruffian Dick .... 

2. The Voyage of ' The Golden Thread ' 

3. Caravanning in the Hijaz 

4. August in Al-Madinah . 

5. By the Road of Harun-al-Rashid 

6. Holy Week at Meccah . 



40 
50 
58 
67 
76 
87 



III. DAVID LIVINGSTONE 



1. The Youth of an Apostle 

2. From Linyanti to Loanda 

3. Fighting the Slave Traders 

4. Lost to the World 



95 

98 

107 

112 



IV. HENRY STANLEY 



1. The Meaning of a Name 

2. The Adventures of a Journalist 

3. The Finding of Livingstone . 

4. The Breaker of Rocks . 



122 
129 
138 
144 



Xll 



CONTENTS 



V. BURKE AND WILLS 

SECTION 

1. Australia from Sea to Sea . 

2. White Man and Black Man . 

3. The Last March . 



PAGE 

152 
160 
164 



VI. FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 



1. A Boy's Will 

2. Through the Great Wall 

3. Across the Great Desert of 

4. To Kashgar and Yarkand 

5. The Mustagh Pass 

6. The Mission to Tibet 

7. The Road to Lhasa 

8. In the Forbidden City 

9. A Letter to Lhasa 



Gobi 



176 
181 
186 
194 
202 
207 
212 
221 
228 



VII. ROBERT SCOTT 



1. Twice to the Antarctic 

2. The Tale of Ten Ponies 

3. At the South Pole 

4. The Race for Life 

5. The Last March 



232 
238 
246 
256 
260 



VIII. ALEXANDER WOLLASTON 



1. The Mountains of the Moon 

2. The Journey Out . 

3. The Conquest of Ruwenzori 

4. The Largest Island in the World 

5. Back in the Stone Age 

6. The Pygmies ..... 

7. Jungle-Bound .... 



269 
273 

277 
286 
290 
300 
307 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

4 He himself, with Back and John Hepburn, started ahead ' 7 
8 They smoked the calumet with him ' . . .9 

4 A big buffalo plunged into the river ' . . .11 

4 Akaitcho alone kept his head, and shot the beast dead ' . 23 
6 Crooked-Foot further distinguished himself by catching 

four large trout ' . . . . . .37 

4 One of the Englishmen swore at the Darwaysh ' . .45 

4 He became instead a Pathan ' . . . . .47 

4 This curtained wicker erection, called a Shugduf, is 

strapped on to the dromedary's back ' . . .59 

4 Fired down on to the caravan from their impregnable 

positions '........ 65 

4 The boy Mohammed had procured for him a Meccan 

dromedary with a magnificent saddle ' . . .73 

4 This he navigated with a flotilla of canoes ' . . . 100 

4 His people crowded round Livingstone, threatening him 

with their weapons '...... 103 

4 44 A boy," replied the gentleman slowly. 44 No, I don't 

think I want one " ' . . . . . . 125 

4 Fired a few volleys into the village, and then charged ' . 135 
* Taking it in turns to ride the two remaining camels ' .159 
4 Wavering branches, and jabbering very excitedly ' .163 

4 He passed through the inner branch of the Great Wall '. 185 
4 Ma-te-la had to walk, leading the first camel ' . .188 

4 Liu-san showed the revolver to everyone he met ' . .190 

4 Saved by clutching the rope as he slid past ' . . 205 

4 The troops fired in reply ' . . . . . ,217 

xiii 



xiv ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGB 

4 The Tibetans then sent in an enormous flag of truce ' . 219 

6 The ponies mostly arrived very tired ' . . . . 241 

' The two remaining sledge parties went ahead very well ' . 249 

4 They found it was a black flag tied to a sledge bearer ' . 255 

4 Scott reached him first '....«. 261 

6 The Papuan looked a gentleman in his own skin ' . . 293 
4 In the canoes, in each of which two or three dogs may 

commonly be seen ' ...... 297 

4 Sitting outside his hut sharpening an axe ' . . . 299 
1 They had crossed on this shaky bridge ' . . .311 



NOTE. 

This volume is intended to serve as an introduction to the 
following books. In the case of several which are copyright, 
the author desires to express his grateful thanks for permission 
to quote freely. 

' Journey to the Shores of the Polar Sea.' By John Franklin, 

Capt. R.N. (Murray.) 
' Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah.' By Sir Richard 

Burton. (Dent.) 
4 Personal Life of David Livingstone.' By W. G. Blaikie. 

| (Murray.) 
4 Autobiography of Sir Henry M. Stanley.' Edited by Dorothy 

Lady Stanley. 
4 R. O'Hara Burke and the Australian Exploring Expedition.' 

By Andrew Jackson. 
6 The Heart of a Continent ' : and « India and Tibet.' By Sir 

Francis Younghusband. (Murray.) 
4 Scott's Last Journal.' Edited by L. Huxley. 
4 From Ruwenzori to the Congo ' : and ' Pygmies and Papuans.' 

By A. F. R. Wollaston. (Murray.) 



xv 



' Then as he went his eyes also were lightened, and he saw 
the world anew. For he perceived how that the beauty of it 
was of no fading excellence, but only by long time forgotten : 
and belike remembered again and again forgotten many times, 
according as men made clean their hearts or darkened them.' 

* And now he saw that land after another fashion : for he 
saw it as a strange and awful land, and the folk of it as a folk 
beset with fearful things, yet fearing nought, as men in the hollow 
of God's hand. And as folk loving and beloved he saw them, 
and strong and uncomplaining and compassionate, yet also work- 
ing wild deeds, after the manner of men.' 

Aladore. 



THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

I. JOHN FRANKLIN 

1. The Traveller Born 

Among all the various characters of men none is more 
strongly marked than that of the Traveller, and John 
Franklin is one of the most typical examples of it. In 
his stirring sixty years of life he served his country in 
a diversity of ways — he was a sailor, and fought in great 
battles ; he was an administrator, and governed a great 
colony ; he was an explorer, and made famous expedi- 
tions. But it was only in the last of these callings that 
he found his true work and a real satisfaction, for 
he was urged always by this one mastering desire to 
discover the earth and to see it for himself. 

He was born in 1786 at Spilsby in Lincolnshire, one 
of a family of the old-fashioned kind, a round dozen in 
number. He had four brothers and four sisters older 
than himself, and seems to have been rather petted and 
spoiled as a little boy, for he was then very delicate 
and weakly, like many small boys who have grown up 
later to become famous men. But three more little 
sisters were born after him, so that he did not long 
remain the baby of the family. He was good-natured 
and affectionate, but very untidy ; and this was a 

B 



2 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

continual distress to the rest of the household, who were 
noted for their neatness and orderliness. There was 
one terrible day when the whip that had always hung 
unused on the staircase landing, had to be taken down 
and laid across John's shoulders. 

4 When he was ten he was sent to school, first at 
St. Ives and then to the Grammar School at Louth. 
He had never yet seen the sea, and one holiday he and 
a friend decided to make for the coast, which was only 
ten miles away from Louth- We are not told what 
they did when they got there, but when John returned 
he had firmly made up his mind to be a sailor. His 
father would not hear of such a thing, and declared that 
he would rather follow his son to the grave than to the 
sea. However, when he found at the end of two years 
that John had not changed his mind, he decided to 
send him for a cruise on board a merchant vessel trading 
between Hull and Lisbon. This was a much rougher 
experience for a boy then than it would be nowadays, 
and he probably thought that a taste of the realities 
of life at sea would cure John of all desire to be a sailor. 
But John returned from this voyage more determined 
than ever, and Mr. Franklin, like a wise man, gave way. 
A berth was obtained for John, who was now fourteen 
years old, as a first-class volunteer on board H.M.S. 
Polyphemus, and in the autumn of 1800 his brother 
Thomas took him up to London to buy him his outfit 
and see him off.' * 

In the following March the Polyphemus sailed with 
Admirals Hyde Parker and Nelson on the expedition 

1 Quoted from The Book of the Blue Sea, where an account 
will be found of Franklin's service in the Navy, and also of his 
last Arctic voyage and death. 



JOHN FRANKLIN 8 

to Copenhagen. John seems to have relished the 
prospect of fighting, and he certainly did his duty in 
the great action with the Danish batteries ; but it is 
clear that he had already, before he sailed, felt that 
exploring impulse which never leaves a man when it 
has once seized him. In his farewell letter he begs 
his father to get him transferred, if the Polyphemus 
comes back in time from the Baltic, to the Investigator, 
a vessel that was preparing to survey the Australian 
coast under Captain Matthew Flinders. The Poly- 
phemus fought her battle and came back in time, the 
transfer was obtained, and on July 7, 1801, John sailed 
for the South Seas in the Investigator. 

The voyage was a long one, and th ship not sea- 
worthy. A year from the start she was already refitting 
in Port Jackson ; then she successfully mapped the 
coast line of the Gulf of Carpentaria, where a river still 
keeps the name of Flinders ; but her timbers were so 
rotten that on her return to Sydney in June 1803 she 
was abandoned, and her officers started for home in 
the Porpoise. When 750 miles out the Porpoise was 
wrecked on a reef, and the crew were only relieved after 
six weeks by the Rolla, which took some of them, 
including John, on to Canton. From there he came 
home, sailing from Calcutta in the famous East India 
Fleet, under Commodore Dance, which fought and 
repulsed a French naval squadron on the voyage. The 
day after his return he was appointed to H.M.S. 
Bellerophon, and after a winter spent in blockading 
Brest his ship joined the fleet off Cadiz, and eventually 
took part in the Battle of Trafalgar. After this John 
cruised in the Bellerophon for two years, and in the 
Bedford for seven more. In July 1815 he was promoted 



4 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

to First Lieutenant in the Forth ; but the war was over, 
and in two months' time he found himself ashore, with 
his fighting career closed at twenty-nine. 

He was more fortunate than others, in having a 
second string to his bow, and a better one. In 1818? 
when the Admiralty decided to send expeditions in 
search of the North Pole and the North-West Passage, 
they selected Lieutenant John Franklin to command 
one of the two ships which sailed on the second of these 
voyages. But the Dorothea and the Trent were both 
very small vessels, and the Trent, Franklin's command, 
was leaky ; after a few months in the icepack they came 
back damaged and unsuccessful — an example of skill 
and courage wasted by official parsimony. The mistake 
was recognised and regretted, and in the following 
year, 1819, two fresh expeditions were sent out. Parry 
with two ships went again to Baffin's Bay ; Franklin 
was given the command of an overland party, with 
orders to explore the northern coast of Arctic America 
and if possible to meet Parry and his ships. This time 
he had found the real opportunity for which he was 
fitted by nature, and it was actually by his work on the 
Long Trail by land that he won both his promotion 
in the Navy and his subsequent high position in the 
public service. 

2. The Expedition to the North- West 

For this second expedition the Admiralty nominated 
three officers to accompany Lieutenant Franklin : 
they were Dr. John Richardson, a naval surgeon, and 
two midshipmen, Mr. George Back and Mr. Robert 
Hood. Of these three, Richardson was medical officer 
and scientific naturalist, Back was chartographer and 



JOHN FRANKLIN 5 

draughtsman, Hood was draughtsman, navigator, and 
meteorologist ; all were able men, and Franklin records 
further that their unfailing kindness, good conduct, 
and cordial cooperation made an ineffaceable impression 
on his mind. It will be seen presently that in the 
light of their desperate experiences these words shine 
with a peculiar significance. As for Franklin himself, 
he was at thirty-three, as he was at sixty, when he started 
upon his last voyage, an ideal leader, inspiring and 
ingenious, pious and orderly, forgetful of himself and 
full of admiration and affection for his men. 

His instructions were, to determine the latitudes 
and longitudes of the northern coast of North America, 
and the trending of that coast from the mouth of the 
Coppermine River eastwards ; the route to be decided 
by himself, after consulting the servants of the Hudson's 
Bay Company at the various places where they were 
established for the purposes of the winter trade. 

The whole party embarked on May 23, at Gravesend, 
on board the Company's ship Prince of Wales, which 
sailed with two consorts, the Eddystone and Wear. 
They touched at Yarmouth in Norfolk, and Mr. Back 
having gone ashore there missed his ship, which could 
not wait for him. The boatmen who should have 
brought him off perceived that he was in a hurry and 
demanded exorbitant pay ; he refused to be black- 
mailed, and started off overland to race the ship to 
Stromness, where he was informed that she would call. 
He posted, coached, and sailed the distance in something 
under nine days, caught up his party, and ended a very 
midshipmanlike performance by finding his friends in 
a ballroom and dancing till a late hour. 

After weathering a severe gale and escaping some 



6 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

icebergs the Prince of Wales reached Hudson's Bay, 
crossed it, and anchored off Fort York on August 30. 
Mr. Williams, the governor of the factory there belong- 
ing to the Hudson's Bay Company, immediately came 
on board, and gave the explorers all the information 
they required for beginning their overland journey. 
A great deal of the distance could be accomplished by 
following the rivers and lakes which make an irregular 
chain to the west and north ; a portable boat was 
therefore got ready and loaded with stores, and on 
September 9 the expedition began its first stage by 
sailing up the tidal estuary of the Hayes River. After 
six miles, however, the tide and wind both failed them, 
and for a great part of the journey ' tracking ' or 
towing became necessary. This operation and the 
dragging of the boat over the ' portages,' or spaces 
between one waterway and, another, were very hard 
work, and it was a relief to reach Cumberland House, 
on Pine Island Lake, on October 22. The lake was 
already beginning to freeze, and by November 8 the 
ice would bear sledges upon it. 

This stage, though fatiguing, had been by a well- 
known track through safe country ; the next was to 
be considerably longer and more difficult — 857 miles 
instead of 690 — and lighter boats and a larger party 
must be prepared. Franklin left Richardson and 
Hood to procure two canoes, with men and stores, 
while he himself, with Back and an able seaman named 
John Hepburn, started ahead on January 18 on snow 
shoes, accompanied by two carrioles and two sledges, 
drawn by dogs. They made about fifteen miles a day, 
and reached Carlton House, the next factory, on the 
81st ; left again on February 8, and on the 23rd, after 



JOHN FRANKLIN 7 

crossing the Isle k la Crosse Lake in a bitter blizzard, 
arrived at the Company's house there — a stage ol 
230 miles. The lake is named from an island on it, 
where the Indians formerly played an annual match 
at the game of La Crosse. 

On March 5, after a brilliant night of the Aurora 




* He himself, with Back and John Hepburn, started ahead.' 



Borealis, the travellers set out again, crossed arms of 
Clear Lake and Buffalo Lake, lonely haunts of the Cree 
and Chipewyan Indians, and reached on the 13th the 
Methye Portage, across which they rode at their ease 
in carrioles. Thence they tobogganed in sledges down 
the almost precipitous slopes towards the Clear Water 
River ; crossed this and the Cascade Portage, and came 
to an Indian encampment, where they smoked the 
calumet, or Pipe of Peace, in the chief's tent. His 
name was The Thumb, and he and his people were dirty 



8 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

and disobliging. Two days later the party reached the 
lodge of another chief, The Sun, but though a genial 
host and delighted to see the Pale Faces he could give 
them no useful information. They smoked the calumet 
with him, and plunged once more into the deep snow. 
A week afterwards they fell in with an old Canadian 
carrying meat to Fort Chipewyan on a sledge with 
two tired dogs ; under his guidance they succeeded in 
reaching the fort on March 25. 

Their first object here was to obtain some certain 
information as to their future route, for they were 
now to push on into a region where they must rely 
entirely on their own resources. Fort Providence was 
the only factory house now to the north of them : 
after passing this they would meet with none of their 
own race until they returned from the Polar Sea. 
Accordingly the Company's agents were asked to ex- 
plain to the Copper Indians, who inhabited the district, 
the object of the expedition, and to ask them for guides 
and hunters to accompany it. At the same time another 
trading association, the North- West Company, consented 
to lend Mr. Wentzel, one of their clerks, and a number 
of their voyageurs or French- Canadian boatmen. Then 
a large birchen canoe was built during the month of 
June : it was 32 J feet in length, and 4 feet 10 inches 
wide in the centre, and was capable of carrying, besides 
the crew of five or six men with their provisions and 
baggage, twenty-five extra packages of 90 lb. each, 
or a total lading of 3300 lb. weight. Yet the canoe 
itself was so light that at a portage, when it was emptied 
of its cargo, it could be carried overland by two men 
only, and they would even run with it. 

The canoe was finished just in time. On July 5 it 




'They smoked the calumet with him.' 



10 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

was taken out for a trial trip, and when caught in a 
heavy gale on the open lake showed itself to be an 
excellent sea-boat. On July 13, Franklin and Back 
had the pleasure of welcoming their friends Richardson 
and Hood, who brought with them two more canoes 
and some stores ; but the pemmican had gone bad 
on the way, and as no more could be obtained at Fort 
Chipewyan it was necessary to move on at once, or the 
large party now gathered together would soon have 
exhausted their food supply. All unsatisfactory men 
were therefore weeded out and sent home, and on July 18 
the rest loaded the three canoes and started for the 
North. 

The crews went off gaily with a lively paddling song, 
and the descent of the magnificent Slave River made 
a rapid and easy beginning for their journey ; but 
Franklin was painfully aware of the risk they were 
running. Setting aside some flour, preserved meat, 
chocolate, arrowroot and portable soup, brought out 
from England expressly as a reserve for the journey to 
the coast next season, there was now in the boats only 
provision for one day's consumption ; after that the 
whole party must live on what they could find or kill. 
Accordingly at 10 next morning a halt was called for 
fishing, and nets were set at the entrance of the Dog 
River. The result was a failure — only four small trout 
were caught, to feed twenty-four people ; and Franklin 
was compelled to draw on his precious preserved meats 
for supper. By daylight next day the nets again 
furnished only a solitary pike. The same thing 
happened once more on the following morning ; but 
the luck then turned. A big buffalo plunged into the 
river ahead of the boats and received fourteen rounds 



JOHN FRANKLIN 



11 



of rapid fire from four muskets, after which he was 
speedily converted into beef, and the flotilla went on 
its way singing. 

This meat and an additional supply purchased from 




/ A big buffalo plunged into the river.' 

Indians enabled the expedition to carry on to Fort 
Providence, which they reached on July 28. There 
they found waiting for them Mr. Wentzel, with the 
interpreter Jean Baptiste Adam, and one of the Indian 
guides ; and there the Indian Chief Akaitcho, or Big 



12 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

Foot, announced his intention of visiting them next 
morning. He arrived with a procession of canoes, 
landed, put on a very grave air, walked up to Mr. 
Wentzel, who spoke his language, and was introduced 
to the British officers. He then made a dignified and 
pathetic speech, saying that he had agreed to accompany 
the expedition, and hoped it would be productive of 
much good to his tribe ; but it had already caused him 
a great grief. The report had reached him that among 
the members of it was a great Medicine Chief who could 
restore the dead to life. At this he had rejoiced, 
thinking to see again the departed who were dear to 
him ; but his first words with Mr. Wentzel had 
removed these vain hopes, and he felt as if his friends 
had been torn from him a second time. He now 
wished to be informed exactly of the nature of the 
expedition. 

In answer to this speech, which was understood to 
have been many days preparing, Franklin said that he 
had been sent out by the Greatest Chief in the world, 
who was the friend of peace and had the interest of 
every nation at heart. This Chief, having learned that 
his children in the North were much in need of 
merchandise, the transport of which was hindered by 
the length and difficulty of the present route, had sent 
the expedition to search for a passage for his vessels 
through the North- West sea ; and also to make dis- 
coveries for the benefit of the Indians and all other 
peoples. For these purposes he desired the assistance 
of his Indian children, and especially he enjoined upon 
them that all hostilities must cease between them and 
their neighbours the Esquimaux. Remuneration would 
follow in the shape of cloth, ammunition (for hunting), 



JOHN FRANKLIN 13 

tobacco, and useful iron instruments ; their debts to 
the North-West Company would also be discharged. 

Akaitcho thereupon renewed his assurances ; as 
to the Esquimaux he recommended caution, because 
they were a very treacherous people, but he would do 
everything in his power to help the British. And he 
kept his word ; he was a man of character and ability, 
obstinate but honourable and shrewd. His tribe, 
who were Copper Indians of the great Chipewyan or 
Northern nation, had done some rough things when on 
the war trail against the Esquimaux, but to Franklin 
and his men they showed not only faithfulness and 
goodwill but a peculiarly tender devotion in the time 
of their need and misery. 

3. Driven into Winter Quarters 

The expedition left Fort Providence on August 2 
1820. It consisted now of the following persons : the 
four officers, Franklin, Richardson, Back, and Hood ; 
Frederick Wentzel, adviser and interpreter-general ; 
John Hepburn, British seaman, that is to say under- 
officer, guard, officers' servant, purveyor, handy man, 
and stand-by. Then there were seventeen voyageurs 
or boatmen, of whom fifteen were French-Canadians, 
one an Italian, Vincenzo Fontano, and one an Iroquois 
Indian, Michel Teroahaute, who was, as we shall hear 
later, the one tragical element in the story. Besides 
these voyageurs there were three of their wives, brought 
for the purpose of making shoes and clothes for the 
men during the winter, and they had three of their 
children with them. Lastly, there were two Canadian 
interpreters, St. Germain and Adam, and one Indian 
interpreter, a Chipewyan called Bois Brules. The 



14 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

party travelled in three large canoes, with a smaller 
one to convey the women ; and they all started in high 
spirits, Franklin and his officers being especially eager 
to explore a line of country which had never yet been 
visited by any European. 

Next day they embarked again before dawn and 
reached the entrance of a stream called by the Indians 
Beg-ho-lo-dessy, or the River of the Toothless Fish. 
Here they found Akaitcho and his hunters, with their 
families, waiting for the expedition. The Indians 
quickly put off in seventeen canoes, and the whole 
flotilla went forward. Akaitcho began by travelling 
in state, in a canoe paddled by a slave whom he had 
captured from the Dog-Rib Indians ; but after a few 
days he showed his good sense by helping to paddle and 
even to carry his canoe at the portages. He also made 
his people assist the white men in carrying the baggage, 
and they obeyed cheerfully. On the second day they 
were rewarded by a new and exciting pleasure : Mr. 
Back got out a fishing-rod and caught several fish with 
a fly. His skill and success astonished and delighted 
the Indians, and every fisherman will understand how 
much this common interest must have done to create 
an understanding between the White and the Red men. 
But fish were not always procurable, and the preserved 
meat was again drawn upon till it gave out. Food 
supply was evidently going to be the great difficulty, 
and some of the Indians went ahead to hunt game for 
the rest ; Akaitcho stayed with Franklin, and was 
always entertained at his table as a token of regard. 
By August 8 the Canadians were exhausted by fatigue 
and short rations ; Franklin was driven to issue the 
portable soup and arrowroot. Three days later a good 



JOHN FRANKLIN 15 

supply of fish was secured and the Indians were reported 
to have lit fires — a sure indication of their having killed 
some reindeer. Shortly afterwards they brought in 
several carcases, and the crisis was over for the time. 

But difficulties multiplied upon the expedition. 
On the 25th the first frost and the migration of the 
geese gave signs of the approach of winter. The same 
day Hepburn went out shooting, and for two days was 
completely lost in the foggy and trackless woods. The 
Indians were very sympathetic, but were in two minds 
about risking the same fate by going on a search party. 
At last three men and a boy went out and brought poor 
Hepburn back half dead with hunger and self-reproach. 
The third and greatest trouble was a complete dis- 
agreement with Akaitcho. The Englishmen had always 
hoped and intended to reach the Coppermine River 
and go down it to the coast before winter ; Akaitcho 
now assured them that this was dangerous and indeed 
impossible so late in the season. If they went he was 
resolved to go back to Fort Providence ; this he was 
too courteous to say to Franklin, but he confided his 
intention to Wentzel, who of course told his leader. 
Franklin then had it out with the Chief, who argued 
the question keenly, and ended by saying, c If after all 
I have said you are determined to go, some of my young 
men shall join the party, because it shall not be said 
that we permitted you to die alone ; but from the 
moment they embark in the canoes I and my relatives 
shall lament them as dead.' 

After this Homeric conference the English chief 
of course gave up his plan with perfect candour and 
good temper, though he was bitterly disappointed. 
He confesses that the change in the weather did some- 



16 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

what alter his opinion, but says stoutly that if the 
Indian had been willing he would have made the 
attempt. Then he gives his own case away by adding, 
c with the intention however of returning immediately 
upon the first decided appearance of winter.' 

His new plan was a better one. With Akaitcho's 
approval he sent Back and Hood forward in a light 
canoe to ascertain the distance and size of the Copper- 
mine River. Akaitcho and his young men were to go 
to the hunting grounds and kill food for the winter ; 
and the rest of the party were set to work felling timber 
and building a house for the winter quarters of the 
expedition. They were none too soon, for September 
began with a daily fall of the temperature to freezing 
point. On the 4th the timber was ready, and they 
began to build the house so long remembered as Fort 
Enterprise. 

Franklin, having seen this work well begun, went 
off on foot to reconnoitre the Coppermine River, which 
still attracted him like a magnet. He took with him 
Richardson and Hepburn, a voyageur named Sumandre, 
and old Keskarrah, an Indian guide, who succeeded 
in keeping the party well fed with reindeer's meat. 
He also gave them a curious insight into the hardiness 
of the Indians. Owing to the coldness of the nights 
the white men slept by the camp fire without undressing. 
6 Old Keskarrah followed a different plan. He stripped 
himself to the skin, and having toasted his body for a 
short time over the embers of the fire, he crept under 
his deerskin and rags, previously spread out as smoothly 
as possible, and coiling himself up in a circular form, 
fell asleep instantly. This custom of undressing to 
the skin even when lying in the open air is common to 



JOHN FRANKLIN 17 

all the Indian tribes. The thermometer at sunset 
stood at 29°.' 

Franklin in making this journey had compromised 
between determination and prudence, and the result 
was a half success ; his party came within sight of the 
Coppermine River, but they were then overtaken by 
a heavy snowstorm which warned them plainly that 
it was time to turn back. They were not really many 
miles out, but soon after beginning the homeward 
journey the guide began to lose his way in the snow, 
and when they halted in the blizzard it took two hours 
to make a fire burn, and during that time the clothes 
of the wanderers were freezing upon them. They had 
to sleep half standing, with their backs against a bank 
of earth, and the next night, spent among some small 
pines, was not much more comfortable. On the third 
day a strenuous effort became necessary, for their 
provisions were exhausted ; they pushed doggedly on, 
and finished the day's march of twenty-two miles by 
8 in the evening. At Fort Enterprise they found 
their friends Back and Hood, who had returned some 
days before ; and they soon forgot their fatigue over 
a substantial supper of reindeer steaks. 

It was not yet October, but all travelling to the 
northward was now over for the season, and many 
preparations must be made before a fresh start could be 
attempted* The year had not seen all the explorers' 
hopes fulfilled, but they had learnt a good deal about 
travelling in the North- West, they had established a good 
advanced base, and they calculated with some satis- 
faction the distance they had accomplished in 1820, 
that is, since leaving Cumberland House. It was 1520 
miles. We cannot doubt that they also reckoned up, 



18 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

but with a good deal less pleasure, the sixteen months 
which had now gone by since they saw their own country 
or received a word from home. 

4. Overland to the Polar Sea 

The officers' house at Fort Enterprise was com- 
pleted on October 6, and they at once struck tents and 
removed into it. It was a plain log building, 50 feet 
long and 24 wide, divided into a hall, three bedrooms, 
and a kitchen. The walls and roof were plastered with 
clay, the floors laid with planks rudely squared with 
the hatchet, and the windows closed with parchment 
of deerskin. The clay cracked and made the building 
draughty, but it was a comfortable dwelling compared 
with the tents, and having filled the capacious clay- 
built chimney with fagots, the party ' spent a cheerful 
evening before the invigorating blaze.' 

The events of the winter were few but interesting. 
On October 18 Back and Wentzel started for Fort 
Providence, to bring up fresh stores. On the 22nd the 
whole party was excited by the mysterious arrival of 
a strange dog. By the marks on his ears the Copper 
Indians, who keep no dogs themselves, recognised him 
as belonging to the Dog-Rib tribe ; but his presence 
in that neighbourhood was never accounted for, though 
a search was made to see if Dog-Ribs might be hiding 
near. On the 26th Akaitcho and his party arrived— a 
serious addition to the eating power of the community. 
A day or two later the men's house was finished and 
occupied : it was 34 feet long and 18 wide, and with 
the officers' quarters and the storehouse it made three 
sides of a quadrangle. 

On November 23 the voyageur Belanger returned 



JOHN FRANKLIN 19 

from Fort Providence, having made a final forced march 
of thirty-six hours. His hair was matted with snow 
and his body encrusted with ice ; the packet of letters 
he carried was frozen hard, and had to be slowly thawed, 
while the Indians sat silently watching the English- 
men's faces to judge of the character of the news 
received. It was partly bad, for some stores had been 
stolen, and partly good, for two Esquimaux interpreters 
had been procured, and that was proof of the influence 
of Franklin and his friends. This impressed the 
Indians, but it was little to the Englishmen compared 
with the home letters which they now held in their 
hands. These had come by way of Canada, and had 
been brought up in September to Slave Lake by the 
North-West Company's canoes ; the latest of them 
had left England in the preceding April, nearly a year 
after the expedition sailed, and were therefore only 
seven months old. With them were newspapers which 
announced the death of King George III and the 
accession of George IV ; but this piece of news was 
carefully concealed from the Indians, lest the death of 
the Great Chief might be supposed to lessen Franklin's 
authority and make him unable to fulfil his promises 
to them. It is doubtful whether Akaitcho himself 
was kept in the dark ; for he was, Franklin says, a 
man of great penetration and shrewdness, who often 
surprised the Englishmen by his correct judgment of 
the character of individuals, steadily comparing their 
conduct with their pretensions, and attentively observ- 
ing everything, though most of his information could 
only be obtained through the imperfect medium of 
an interpreter. 

On January 27, 1821, Mr. Wentzel and St. Germain 



20 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

returned, bringing with them the two Esquimaux. 
Their names were Tattannceuck (The Belly) and 
Hoeootoerock (The Ear), but these had been judiciously 
changed to Augustus and Junius, derived from the two 
months in which they had been originally engaged at 
Fort Churchill. Augustus spoke English and became 
an important member of the expedition. 

The winter was comfortable, but long and unevent- 
ful. Spring is noted as having begun on May 12, but 
the temperature was still down to freezing-point. It 
was not Until June 12 that the Winter River was fairly 
clear of ice, but by then the whole expedition was in 
readiness, and on the 14th they started towards the 
North. The first stage was overland to Winter Lake ; 
the canoes were dragged on * trains ' by teams of four 
men and two dogs each, the rest followed on foot, 
carrying stores and instruments. The air was still 
cold and snowstorms were frequent, but several lakes 
were successfully crossed, and on the 21st the expedition 
joined up with Akaitcho and his hunters at Point 
Lake, which was still frozen. The rest of the Indians 
had already gone further north. Nine days of hard 
travelling followed, and on July 1 the whole party came 
at last to the Coppermine River. 

Next day they launched upon this river, which was 
200 yards wide and flowed rapidly over a rocky bottom. 
For the first three miles the canoes were carried along 
by the stream with extraordinary speed, gliding over 
boulders and plunging through rapids and drift ice. 
Now and then it was necessary to halt and repair them, 
and at specially dangerous points the ammunition, 
guns, and instruments had to be put ashore and carried 
along the bank. This uncomfortable but rapid method 



JOHN FRANKLIN 21 

of journeying continued for a fortnight, during the 
whole of which time deer and musk oxen were shot in 
plenty and fish were also caught. 

On July 6 the canoes shot a series of rapids which 
carried them past the entrance to a lake called the 
Fairy Lake. Franklin inquired the meaning of this 
name, and found to his delight that the Northern 
Indians had a race of fairies of their own. They are 
six inches high, they lead a life similar to that of the 
Indians themselves, and are excellent hunters. Those 
who have the good luck to fall in with their tiny en- 
campments are always kindly treated, and feasted on 
venison. But unfortunately this did not happen to the 
Englishmen : they got no nearer than hearsay. They 
did however meet with some very friendly Indians of 
ordinary size, headed by two chiefs named Long Legs 
and The Hook. 

On July 12 Franklin found that he was on the 
confines of the Esquimaux territory, and became 
anxious about the possible result of a meeting between 
them and the Copper Indians, who had massacred some 
of them in their last war. On this day too the expedition 
was rushed by a bear, which pursued two Indians into 
the middle of a whole party on the shore so suddenly 
and fiercely that all the hunters fired wildly and missed 
him at close quarters. Akaitcho alone kept his head, 
took deliberate aim, and shot the beast dead at the 
critical moment. The Indians would not eat bear's 
meat, but the white men did, and found it excellent. 

The Indians were now kept behind, and Augustus 
and Junius were sent forward to find the Esquimaux 
and negotiate with them. This they succeeded in doing 
on July 14, but next day the Indians disobeyed orders 



22 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

and came up to the front, whereupon the Esquimaux 
bolted, expecting another massacre. At last an old 
chief named Terregannceuck was found ; he was too 
infirm to run away, but he thrust out with his spear 
at Augustus, and at Akaitcho, Afterwards the Esqui- 
maux reappeared in such numbers that the Indians in 
their turn became alarmed and wanted to go home 
at once, lest they should be surrounded and cut off. 
Franklin let them go, and made his way forward to the 
sea under the guidance of Augustus. 

He reached the seashore on July 19, 1821, having 
come from Fort Enterprise, a distance of 334 miles, of 
which 217 were traversed by water, while for 117 miles 
the canoes and baggage were dragged over snow and 
ice. The first objective of the expedition had been 
gained. 

The second was to be the survey of the coast-line 
to the East, but this no longer appeared so simple as 
it had done when planned in England ; the difficulty 
of food supply was now realised. The British officers, 
however, were delighted to see the sea again, and thought 
they could hardly fail to do better on their own element. 
They started therefore in high spirits on what can only 
be described as a month's naval picnic. Every day 
they made what progress they could along the deeply 
indented coast line, mapping all the headlands and bays, 
and naming them after friends at home. Every night 
they came ashore to sleep and kill game ; at times they 
lived well, at times they nearly starved ; they ate 
anything and everything : deer, reindeer, fish, fat bears, 
lean bears, wild swans, cranes, musk-oxen, geese — even 
seals and white foxes. But the time came when this 
hand-to-mouth picnic had to end ; the weather became 




* A-kaitcho alone kept his, head, and shot the beast dead.' 



24 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

extremely rough, the Canadian voyageurs, who were 
only freshwater sailors, were terrified by the height of 
the waves, and the canoes had to keep near the shore, 
where they found calmer water but were in danger of 
sunken rocks, Franklin saw that he could do no further 
surveying, for he could not pass with any hope of safety 
outside the eastern end of the great sound in which he 
had hitherto been sailing — the bay now called Bathurst 
Sound, but named by the expedition George IV's 
Coronation Gulf. He had also to think of his return 
to Fort Enterprise ; and there was a reason beyond all 
these, which gave him great pain — he discovered that 
his men, who had hitherto shown courage beyond his 
expectation, had now so completely lost their nerve that 
they expressed their fear even in the presence of their 
officers. On August 12, after consulting his staff, he 
decided to turn in four days' time ; the distance 
accomplished was 550 miles, and he had seen enough to 
convince him of the existence of a continuous coastline 
— that is to say of a navigable passage from sea to sea. 

5. The Barren Grounds 

Franklin's original intention had been to return 
by way of the Coppermine River, find The Hook and his 
hunters, and travel to Slave Lake through the woods 
by the Great Bear and Marten Lakes ; for it was of 
course impossible to travel upstream on so swift and 
strong a river as the one by which they had come down. 
This plan was evidently no longer feasible ; the coast 
voyage h&d brought the explorers further than they 
expected, and their provisions were too scanty for the 
return journey, especially as it would take them through 
a desolate country known as the Barren Grounds. 



JOHN FRANKLIN 25 

This must be crossed by the shortest possible cut. 
Franklin determined to make for Arctic Sound, an 
inlet to the south-west, where he had found the animals 
rather more numerous than elsewhere along the coast. 
From there he could make his way up Hood's River as 
far as it was navigable, and then break up his large 
canoes and use the materials to make smaller ones 
which could be carried across the portages of the Barren 
Grounds and so back to Fort Enterprise. There he 
would find Mr. Wentzel and Akaitcho's hunters, with 
fresh stores of meat. 

The weather now turned stormy and delayed his 
departure from his comfortless camp, which he named 
Point Turnagain. He had a day of great anxiety too : 
Junius had shot a deer, and Belanger the voyageur 
and Michel the Iroquois went out to help him bring it 
in. None of them returned, and a search party found 
them after twenty-four hours badly frozen, quite lost, 
and without the deer, which they had found but 
abandoned. Then Augustus got lost too, and was out 
all night. Finally, the start was made on August 22, 
and the spirits of all rose ; but their hunting that day 
was a failure, and they had to go to sleep dinnerless. 
After this, in bad weather and on a level of frozen rocks, 
the food supply became a very grim problem. By 
September 6 all the store of pemmican was eaten, and 
only a little arrowroot and portable soup left. The 
Canadians began to weaken, and were repeatedly blown 
down by the wind while carrying the boats. On the 
7th Benoit fell so heavily as to break the largest canoe 
beyond repair. On the same day Franklin himself 
fainted on the march. That morning they made the 
best of a bad business by using the broken canoe for 



26 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

firewood and serving out the last of the soup and 
arrowroot. 

In the afternoon they discovered a new resource, 
which helped them considerably for many days after. 
They entered a tract of country where the rocks were 
covered with a lichen called by the Canadians tripe 
de roche, not very nourishing but eatable enough. With 
half a partridge each they made a slender supper of 
this, and then slept in their damp clothes. But they 
took off their shoes and socks and lay upon them to 
prevent them from freezing ; and this now became their 
regular practice. It is a vivid touch of hardship ; but in 
the matter of shoes there was a worse extremity to come. 

Two Alpine hares were killed on September 9, and 
4 lb. of meat was robbed from a wolf's half-eaten dinner ; 
on the 10th a musk-ox was shot. After that, berries 
and a single partridge kept the party for two days ; 
tripe de roche was not agreeing with their stomachs. 
The men's packs were now lightened by abandoning 
everything except ammunition and the instruments 
necessary for finding the way. Franklin lent his gun to 
St. Germain, and Hood lent his to Michel the Iroquois, 
and rewards were offered for any animals killed by any 
of the party. Michel was the most eager and success- 
ful ; and Perrault the Canadian distinguished himself 
on September 14 by an act of great kindness and 
loyalty. Seeing the officers standing round a small 
fire, and no doubt talking gravely, he came up and 
presented each of them with a small piece of meat, 
which by great self-denial he had saved from his own 
allowance. Franklin says this filled their eyes with 
tears, being totally unexpected in a voyageur, for these 
men had not always behaved well, 



JOHN FRANKLIN 27 

Later in the day a very trying incident occurred. 
A river was to be crossed, and Franklin was to go 
first with St. Germain and Belanger. The stream was 
about 300 yards wide, and flowed with great velocity 
through a broken rocky channel. At the smoothest 
place the canoe was placed in the water at the head 
of a rapid and the three travellers embarked. In mid- 
channel the canoe became difficult to manage ; the 
wind caught it and the current drove it to the edge of 
the rapids. Belanger made a violent effort to keep 
off, lost his balance, and the canoe went over in the 
middle of the rapids. All three men kept hold of it 
until they came to a rock where the water was only 
waist deep ; there they stood fast and emptied the 
canoe. Belanger then held it steady while Franklin 
and St. Germain got on board ; but he then found that 
he could not embark himself, for the moment he raised 
his feet from the rock the boat would have been swept 
down the rapids again. He therefore pushed the other 
two off towards shore and stayed on the rock him- 
self. Franklin and St. Germain struck another rock, 
sank, stood up again in shallow water, and emptied 
the boat once more ; then got across at the third 
attempt. 

Meantime poor Belanger was suffering extremely, 
standing up to his middle in water very little above 
freezing point, with all his clothes soaking and a cold 
wind cutting him. He called piteously for help, and 
St. Germain tried to get to him in the canoe, but it was 
carried past him by the current. The Canadian Adam 
then tried, but he too failed. The slings of the men's 
loads were then tied together to make a rope, and the 
canoe was paid out on this, but it broke with the force 



28 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

of the stream. A second attempt was made with a 
small cord from one of the nets, and this time the canoe 
passed so near to Belanger that he caught it ; but 
before he could get on board he was carried down 
through the rapids and dragged ashore perfectly in- 
sensible. By Dr. Richardson's orders he was instantly 
stripped and rolled in blankets ; then two men stripped 
and lay down on each side of him, to act as living hot 
bottles ; but it was some hours before he recovered 
enough to be put to bed in front of a fire. Franklin 
was then rescued by Augustus, who brought the canoe 
across and took him back with the greatest coolness 
and skill. His sensations while he was on the farther 
bank, watching the attempts to save Belanger, were, 
he says, indescribable. He was alone, with nearly 
300 yards of water between him and his whole party, 
without food, gun, hatchet, or the means of making a 
fire, and there were his companions risking their lives 
and their only remaining canoe in attempting a rescue 
which he was too far off to see distinctly. He paced 
up and down that rocky shore in wet and freezing clothes 
while the whole fate of his expedition hung on a small 
cord and the skill of one man. But no man ever had 
a stouter heart, and by noon next day he had got all 
the party going again, including even the half- drowned 
Belanger. 

For several days after this game almost entirely 
failed them ; they lived on tripe de roche and a few 
partridges, pieces of skin, and old bones of deer, and 
even their own old shoes. On September 22 their 
last canoe was broken by several severe falls, and the 
voyageurs demanded that it should be abandoned. 
Franklin refused, but they threw it down and left it 



JOHN FRANKLIN 29 

while he was following another track in search of Dr. 
Richardson, who had strayed. These men were now 
quite furious, believing that the Indian hunters had 
played false with the expedition ; but the officers were 
firm, and the situation was saved on the 25th by the 
appearance of a herd of deer, out of which five were 
shot. 

They were now at the east end of Point Lake. Mr. 
Back was sent forward with the interpreters to search 
for game ; and Junius and the voyageur Credit also 
went off in another direction. On the 28th, camp 
was pitched by the Coppermine River, here 130 yards 
wide, which Franklin decided to cross by means of a 
raft. This was built of willows, but there was no wood 
for oars or paddles, and the men were becoming hopeless 
when Dr. Richardson volunteered to swim across with 
a towing line. He got nearly across, but first his arms 
became powerless, and then his legs ; at last he sank, 
and was hauled back nearly lifeless. He was stripped 
and rolled in blankets, and at sight of his skeleton-like 
body the Canadians all burst into a cry of 6 Ah ! que 
nous sommes maigres ! ' They were at any rate less 
lean than their officers, for they had not only stolen 
rations but had often eaten the partridges they shot 
instead of bringing them back for the common 
stock. 

Back now returned, and St. Germain set to work to 
build a new canoe out of the fragments of canvas in 
which the men carried their bedding. In this he 
succeeded, on October 4, in crossing the river, and 
eventually in transporting the whole party. Franklin 
then immediately sent Back forward again with three 
men to search for the Indians, and if necessary to push 



30 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

on to Fort Enterprise ; the spirits of the voyageurs 
rose incredibly, and they insisted on shaking hands with 
their officers. But their troubles were not yet over g 
they weakened day by day, and could no longer carry 
their loads. The stronger ones wished to go ahead and 
leave the weaker. Hood, who was growing very weak, 
and Richardson, who was lame, now offered to stay 
behind with a single attendant and ten days' supply of 
tripe de roche, while Franklin and the rest went on to 
Fort Enterprise. Franklin was much distressed, and 
argued with them for a long time, but at last he had 
the good sense to agree ; he left them John Hepburn 
and a barrel of powder, and pushed on. Richardson 
and Hepburn were in fact fit enough to go with him ; 
they were risking themselves for Hood's sake. 

Franklin's forced march was a terrible one ; Credit 
was still missing somewhere in the rear, Vaillant was 
too exhausted to be moved, Perrault and Fontano 
soon turned dizzy and collapsed. He pushed on with 
only Adam and three others, and reached Winter River 
at last without a morsel of food left ; there were reindeer 
in sight, but all four men were now too feeble to follow 
them or raise a gun. But they were within one day of 
home ; they crept under their blankets and c kept up a 
cheerful conversation' in place of supper. Next day 
they lived on a little tea and some shoes, and made 
straight for the house in silence, agitated with hopes and 
fears. The fears had it : Fort Enterprise was perfectly 
desolate, without a trace of the Indians, of Wentzel, or 
of any kind of provisions. The whole party realised not 
only their own fate but that of their friends in the rear, 
and there was not one of them who could refrain from 
tears. 



JOHN FRANKLIN 31 

6. Red Men, Best and Worst 

After the first bitter moment of disappointment 
Franklin regained the vigour of mind for which he was 
always remarkable, and began to form his plans. A 
note was found from Mr. Back, stating that he had 
reached the house two days ago and had gone in search 
of the Indians, intending to make his way if necessary 
as far as Fort Providence. But Franklin knew how 
weak Back and his companion St. Germain must now 
be, and how long supplies would be coming from such 
a distance ; moreover there were Hood and his party 
to be supplied immediately. He determined therefore 
to go in search of the Indians himself, as soon as he could 
get his party to face another effort. In the meantime 
he looked about for food, and thought himself lucky 
to find several old deerskins, and some bones in the ash- 
heap ; with these and some tripe de roche he thought 
he could keep his party alive for a few days. 

That night Augustus appeared unexpectedly, and 
on the 13th Belanger returned with another note from 
Back, asking for fresh instructions as he had failed to 
find the Indians at or near Winter River. Franklin 
replied, telling him to rendezvous at Reindeer Lake, 
where he would join him on the way to Fort Providence, 
for he was now convinced that the Indians must be 
there. Belanger started on his return journey on the 
18th, after trying hard to conceal from Franklin where 
he had left Back and St. Germain — he was afraid the 
whole party might follow him and take a share of the 
food that St. Germain killed. 

His selfishness was quite unnecessary, for the men 
were most of them hopelessly unfit to move ; Adam's 



32 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

limbs were so swollen that he could not march at all. 
When the time came Franklin could only take with 
him Augustus and Benoit, and the little party of three 
could hardly crawl along. But the others gave them 
a brave send-off, and they did four miles in six hours' 
walking. They supped on deerskin and tea, and found 
the night bitterly cold. 

Next morning they started again, but had not 
gone many yards when Franklin fell between two rocks 
and broke both his snow shoes. He made a plucky 
attempt to keep up with the others in spite of this ; 
but he soon became exhausted, and saw that he was 
only delaying them and endangering the whole expedi- 
tion. He therefore wrote directions for them to take 
on to Back, and himself returned alone to Fort Enter- 
prise. He found the voyageurs much weaker and in 
tears. 

That evening, as they all sat round the fire, talking 
of the coming relief, a noise was heard in the other 
room. ' Ah ! le monde ! ' exclaimed Peltier joyfully, 
making sure that the Indians had come. But to his 
great disappointment it was not the Indians who 
entered, but Richardson and Hepburn. Franklin was 
of course very happy to see them, but they looked 
miserably emaciated, and he hardly dared to ask after 
their companions. Richardson told him the news 
briefly, and it was terrible. Perrault and Fontano 
had never been seen again ; Hood and Michel were 
dead. No more was told at that time, for they 
knew that they could bear no more on either side. 
Richardson even asked the party in the house to 
speak more cheerfully, not realising that his own tones 
were equally weak and sepulchral. The seven men 



JOHN FRANKLIN 33 

supped ravenously upon a single partridge, and the 
Doctor, having saved his prayer-book, read evening 
prayers before they went to bed. 

It was not till after supper next day that Dr. Richard- 
son's narrative was told. After Richardson, Hood, 
and Hepburn had voluntarily remained behind, in hope 
of a speedy rescue, they were joined by Michel the 
Iroquois, who immediately killed some game for them. 
He had been sent by Franklin with a note, saying that 
Perrault and Belanger would also join the party ; but 
these two, he said, had left him on the way ; and he 
declared that Perrault had given him Franklin's gun 
and bullets, which he had been carrying. Neither 
Perrault nor Belanger was ever seen again ; but a piece 
of wolf's flesh in Michel's possession was afterwards 
found to be part of a human body. 

Michel's manner now became surly and difficult : 
sometimes he hunted, sometimes he refused to hunt. 
On the 19th of October he would not even help to carry 
a log to the fire, and when Hood lectured him on his 
duty he exclaimed : ; It is no use hunting, there are 
no animals : you had better kill and eat me.' The 
next day, Sunday, while Richardson was gathering 
tripe de roche after morning service, and Hepburn was 
cutting down a tree for fuel, Hood was left sitting by 
the fire, arguing again with Michel, who showed great 
unwillingness to hunt, and was hanging about under 
pretence of cleaning his gun. 

Richardson heard a shot fired, but thought nothing 
of it until ten minutes afterwards, when Hepburn's 
voice was heard shouting to him, in great alarm, to 
come directly. When he reached the fireside he found 
Hood lying lifeless, with a bullet wound through his 



34 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

forehead. For a moment he thought with horror 
that the poor fellow might have killed himself in a fit 
of despondency ; then he remembered Michel, and 
examined the wound. The bullet had been fired into 
the back of the head, and the gun had been held so close 
that Hood's cap was burnt behind. 

Michel's account of it was that Mr. Hood had sent 
him into the tent for the short gun, and in his absence 
the long gun had gone off, he could not tell how. But 
the long gun was so long that no man could have shot 
himself with it in any position. Michel repeatedly 
protested that he was incapable of having committed 
murder, and Richardson dared not openly show his 
suspicions ; but it was noted that Michel after this 
never left the two Englishmen alone together, and he 
knew enough English to understand if they had spoken 
of the subject in his hearing. 

On the 23rd the diminished party set out to march 
for Fort Enterprise ; for it was only Hood's weak 
condition that had kept them behind the others. 
Michel and Hepburn each carried one of the guns, 
and Richardson had a small pistol, which Hepburn 
had loaded for him. Michel's conduct soon became 
alarming ; he assumed a tone of superiority, and ex- 
pressed his hatred of the white people, or French, as 
he called them ; some of them, he said, had killed and 
eaten his uncle and other relatives. It became plainer 
every moment that he had the two Englishmen in his 
power ; they were very weak and badly armed, while 
he had the best gun, two pistols, an Indian bayonet 
and a knife, and the strength to use them. The crisis 
came in the afternoon, when he made some tripe de 
roche an excuse to lag behind, saying that he would catch 



JOHN FRANKLIN 35 

the others up shortly. It was more than probable 
that he meant to attack them while they were in the 
act of encamping ; in any case they were doomed, and 
Hepburn took this opportunity to offer to make an 
attack upon their crazy enemy. 

Richardson, however, could not leave so great a 
responsibility to a subordinate. He was thoroughly 
convinced of his own duty, and he did it with unshaken 
nerve. He waited for the Iroquois, who at last came 
up, and of course without the tripe de roche which had 
been his excuse ; then with the single shot from his 
pistol he killed him instantly. Six days afterwards he 
and Hepburn stumbled into Fort Enterprise. 

It is hardly necessary to say that this stern execution 
was approved by all those to whom the facts were now 
told ; but the story cast a deep gloom over the whole 
party. This was much increased by the illness of 
Franklin, Hepburn, and Adam, all of whom suffered 
from weakness and swellings ; Richardson too was 
declining in strength. The general lassitude was such 
that it became too great a labour to separate the hair 
from the deerskins on which they were mainly living, 
so that they actually ate less than their stock afforded, 
and of course increased their weakness still more. 
They generally succeeded in sleeping at night, and their 
dreams were pleasant, being for the most part about 
the enjoyments of feasting. But Franklin notes that 
as their bodily strength decayed, their minds also 
weakened, and they became unreasonably irritable with 
each other. They could not bear even the smallest 
kindness one from another, or assistance of any kind. 
Hepburn, who kept his sense of humour, was heard to 
remark : ' Dear me, if we are spared to return to 



36 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

England, I wonder if we shall recover our under- 
standings.' 

On November 7 Adam was apparently dying ; 
Franklin was with him, and the Doctor and Hepburn 
were cutting wood outside, when a shot was heard. 
They could not believe their senses, until a shout 
followed, and they saw three Indians close to the house. 
Richardson hurried in with the joyful news, but poor 
Adam could scarcely understand it ; when the Indians 
actually entered he attempted to rise, and sank down 
again. But he began to mend from that moment. 

The Indians had left Akaitcho's camp only two 
days before, after Back had found them. They brought 
a note from him, and some meat, on which the starving 
expedition badly over-ate itself, in spite of the Doctor's 
warning. After an hour's rest, one of the Indians, 
named Boudel-Kell, returned to Akaitcho with the 
news, and a request for more food ; the other two, 
Crooked-Foot and The Rat, remained to take care of 
the sufferers. Franklin was very greatly impressed 
by their efficiency and kindness ; they were in every 
way as good as a trained ambulance. They began by 
clearing the house of the accumulations of dirt and 
pounded bones, and keeping up large and cheerful fires, 
which produced a novel sensation of comfort among their 
patients. They carried in the pile of dried wood by 
the riverside, on which the Englishmen had often cast 
longing eyes, when they were too weak to drag it up 
the bank. Franklin says that they c set about every- 
thing with an activity that amazed us. Indeed, con- 
trasted with our emaciated figures and extreme debility, 
their frames appeared to us gigantic and their strength 
supernatural. These kind creatures next turned their 



JOHN FRANKLIN 



37 



attention to our personal appearance, and prevailed 
upon us to shave and wash ourselves. The beards of 
the Doctor and Hepburn had been untouched since 




?\.rt 



' Crooked-Foot further distinguished himself by catching 
four large trout.' 

they left the sea-coast, and were become of a hideous 
length, and peculiarly offensive to the Indians.' Hep- 
burn was soon getting better, and Adam recovered his 
strength with amazing rapidity. 

Next day Crooked-Foot further distinguished him- 
self by catching four large trout in Winter Lake, which 



38 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

were a very welcome variety of food. Then the weather 
changed to snow, and the Indians seemed to become 
despondent. On the night of November 13 they 
silently vanished away ; but in two days Crooked-Foot 
reappeared, bringing with him two others, Thooee- 
Yorre and The Fop, whose wives also came, dragging 
a cargo of provisions. There was a note too from 
Back, who with his party was setting out for Fort 
Providence. Franklin at once resolved to do the same ; 
and on November 16 the start was made. 

Franklin writes feelingly of the emotions with 
which he and his friends left Fort Enterprise, where 
they had formerly enjoyed comfort and even happiness, 
but latterly had experienced a degree of misery hardly 
to be paralleled. ' The Indians, 5 he adds, c treated us 
with the utmost tenderness, gave us their snow-shoes, 
and walked without themselves, keeping by our sides 
that they might lift us when we fell. They prepared 
our encampment, cooked for us, and fed us as if we 
had been children ; evincing humanity that would 
have done honour to the most civilised people.' 

On the 26th they reached the abode of Akaitcho, 
where they were received in the Chief's tent with looks 
of compassion and a profound silence of sympathy, 
which lasted a quarter of an hour. Conversation did 
not begin till they had tasted food ; and Akaitcho 
showed the most friendly hospitality, even to cooking 
with his own hands, an office which he never per- 
formed for himself. His brothers, Annoethai-Yazzeh 
and Humpy, with their families, also came in to express 
their sympathy. 

On December 1 the party set out again under escort 
of the Indians, and on the 6th they were met by a 



JOHN FRANKLIN 39 

convoy from Fort Providence bringing supplies and 
some letters from England. By these they learnt of 
the successful termination of Captain Parry's voyage ; 
and of the promotion of Franklin and Back, and Hood 
too, for whom this news made them grieve afresh. 
Two days afterwards, after a long conference with 
Akaitcho and the distribution of many presents, they 
took leave of him and his kind and faithful Indians, 
and pushed on in dog sledges to Fort Providence. 
Akaitcho, however, with his whole band, rejoined them 
there on December 14, and smoked one more pipe with 
them, made them more than one more speech, and 
ended by expressing a strong desire that the character 
of his nation should be favourably represented in 
England. ' I know,' he said, c you write down every 
occurrence in your books ; but probably you have 
only noticed the bad things we have said and done, 
and have omitted to mention the good.' Next day the 
expedition left for Moose-Deer Island, and he and his 
men bade them farewell, with a warmth of manner 
rare among the Indians. 

Franklin and his party rested at Moose-Deer Island 
till May 25, and nearly regained their ordinary health. 
Their stores arrived from the coast, and they were thus 
enabled to send full payment to their Indian friends, 
with an additional present of ammunition. They then 
left for Fort Chipewyan, and finally reached York 
Factory on July 14, 1822, having been three years all 
but a month on their long, fatiguing, successful and 
disastrous expedition, and having journeyed in Canada 
by water and by land no less than 5550 miles. 



II. RICHARD BURTON 

1. Ruffian Dick 

Richard Burton was born in Hertfordshire on March 
19, 1821. His father, Lieut. -Colonel Joseph Netterville 
Burton of the 36th Regt., was an Irishman. Through 
his mother Richard was descended from the MacGregors, 
and he also inherited a strain of French blood. The 
result of this combination was the wild, gipsy-looking 
boy known to his friends as Ruffian Dick. His fiery, 
restless nature and his love of freedom and adventure 
were encouraged by his upbringing. His father, like 
many Irishmen, wandered about from place to place, 
and Richard spent his childhood partly in France and 
partly in Italy. He went finally to Trinity College, 
Oxford, but his irregular education had not adapted 
him for University life, and his career at Oxford ended 
in his being c sent down.' He must have been in 
many ways very unlike the ordinary English youth of 
his age. One undergraduate who dared to laugh at 
his fierce moustache was instantly asked to name his 
seconds. 

At the age of twenty-one Richard became a lieutenant 
in the 18th Bombay Native Infantry. He hated the 
routine life, and soon succeeded in getting appointed 
as assistant in the Survey of Sind. This gave him the 
Very opportunities that he wanted. He had already 

discovered his talent for languages and had worked at 

40 



RICHARD BURTON 41 

Arabic and Hindustani. He now set himself to learn 
the various native dialects, Gujarati, Marathi, Multani, 
and also Persian, which he says he had at his fingers' 
ends. Besides these he taught himself at different 
times Sanskrit, Turkish, Pushtu, and Armenian. Then 
he began really to enjoy life. He disguised himself as 
an Oriental, usually as a half Arab half Iranian, with 
long hair and beard, and hands, arms, and feet stained 
with henna. With his stock-in-trade of fine linen, 
calicoes, and muslins he mixed among the people as one 
of themselves. His knowledge of manners and dress 
was as perfect as his command of language, and he was 
able to deceive even his own Persian Munshi. 

He was seven years in India, and during this time 
he published several books, of which perhaps ; Scinde 
or the Unhappy Valley ' is the one best known. 

In 1850 a combination of circumstances resulted 
in his return on sick leave to Europe. While in London 
in the autumn of 1852 he decided to offer his services 
to the Royal Geographical Society. He had long 
wished to make the famous pilgrimage to Meccah and 
at the same time to explore the eastern and central 
regions of Arabia, which he describes at that time as 
a c huge white blot on our maps.' He succeeded in 
getting another year's furlough from India ■ to pursue 
his Arabic studies,' and was liberally supplied with the 
means of travel by the Royal Geographical Society, 
who promised to do all they could to help him. 

Burton resolved to resume his old character of a 
Persian wanderer. He wished to see with his own 
eyes Moslem inner life in a really Mohammedan country. 
To do this he must travel as a born believer and not 
as a convert. A 4 New Moslem ' is suspected by all, 



42 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

and no one would willingly give him information or 
hospitality. 

Determined to do the thing thoroughly, he assumed 
his disguise in London, and on April 4, 1853, a Persian 
Prince embarked with his baggage on board the P. and O. 
Company's steamer Bengal. Burton spent the fortnight's 
voyage in practising his Oriental manners — the correctly 
uncomfortable method of sitting on a chair, the rolling 
gait with toes straight to the front, the grave look, and 
the habit of pious ejaculation. A whole series of forms 
must be gone through before a good Moslem can even 
pour a glass of water down his throat, and a single 
slip in etiquette during certain stages of his projected 
journey would be almost certain to cost him his life. 

On the 13th day Alexandria was reached, and the 
Persian Prince disembarked and proceeded to the 
house of an English friend who was in the secret, Mr. 
J. W. Larking. He was lodged in an outhouse the 
better to deceive the servants, and spent his time re- 
viving his recollections of religious ablutions, reading 
the Koran, and visiting the baths, coffee-houses, and 
bazars. He had brought with him various phials 
and pill-boxes so as to pass as a doctor, and having 
cured some simple ailments among his neighbours he 
soon became famous. One old man even went so far 
as to offer the holy doctor his daughter in marriage. 

After a month spent in this way Burton prepared 
to become a wandering Darwaysh. This is a disguise 
which can be assumed by men of all ranks, ages, and 
creeds, for it has the great advantage that the wearer 
is allowed to ignore ceremony to a great extent ; no 
one asks him awkward questions ; he may be rich or 
poor, and the more haughty and offensive he is to the 



RICHARD BURTON 43 

people the more they respect him. When in great 
danger he can pretend to be mad and so escape detection. 
Then came the question of a passport, and here Burton 
found he had made a mistake in not providing himself 
with one before he left London. With some difficulty 
and after considerable delay he eventually obtained 
one from the British consul at Alexandria, wherein 
he was described as an Indo-British subject named 
Abdullah, by profession a doctor, aged thirty, and of 
ordinary appearance. This document had then to be 
signed by the Police Magistrate, a most lengthy process 
needing truly Oriental patience. However, after three 
days mostly spent sitting in the sun outside various 
office doors, Dr. Abdullah obtained official permission 
to visit any part of Egypt and to retain possession 
of his dagger and pistols. 

He then packed up his various necessaries, a tooth- 
stick, a piece of soap, a wooden comb, and a change or 
two of clothing. He also took a goatskin water-bag, 
a Persian rug to act as couch, chair, table, and oratory, 
a pillow, a blanket, and a sheet, which was to serve both 
as tent and mosquito curtain, for at night it would be 
pulled right over the head. Darning materials, a dagger, 
a brass inkstand, a huge rosary, and a pea-green medicine 
chest decorated with red and yellow flowers completed 
the outfit. Everything except the bed and the medicine 
chest was packed in a pair of native saddlebags, and 
Dr. Abdullah then went to inquire when the local 
steamer would start for Cairo. He was told in truly 
Oriental fashion to call every evening until satisfied. 

At length about the end of May a boat was advertised, 
and Burton left his ' little room among the white myrtle 
blossom and the rosy oleander,' kissed his host's hand, 



44 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

bade adieu to his numerous patients, and climbed into 
a conveyance which he describes as a cross between a 
wheelbarrow and a dog-cart, and drawn by a kicking, 
jibbing, and biting mule he set out for the steamer that 
was to take him up the Nile as far as Cairo. 

This voyage should have taken thirty hours, but 
lasted instead three days and three nights, and the 
4 Little Asthmatic ' grounded regularly four or five 
times between sunrise and sunset each day. Burton, 
who had taken a third-class or deck passage, was any- 
thing but comfortable. 'A roasting sun/ he writes, 
' pierced the canvas awning like hot water through a 
gauze veil, and by night the cold dews fell raw and thick 
as a Scotch mist. The cooking was abominable and 
the dignity of Darwaysh-hood did not allow me to sit 
at meat with infidels or to eat the food which they had 
polluted. So the Pilgrim squatted apart, smoking 
perpetually with occasional interruptions to say his 
prayers and to tell his beads upon the mighty rosary ; 
and he drank the muddy water of the canal out of a 
leathern bucket, and he munched his bread and garlic 
with desperate sanctimoniousness.' 

The ship carried a numerous and motley collection 
of passengers, including two English officers of the 
Indian Army, some Greeks, Italians, French, and Syrians. 
Burton was both annoyed and pleased when one of the 
Englishmen swore at the Darwaysh for touching his 
elbow by mistake, little dreaming that he was cursing 
a brother officer. 

Dr. Abdullah made two friends on board, Haji 
Wali, of whom we shall hear again, and a rather dis- 
agreeable rascally Indian shawl merchant called Khuda- 
bakhsh, with whom he was persuaded to lodge for the 




c One of the Englishmen swore at the Darwaysh.' 



46 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

first ten days after reaching Cairo. At the end of this 
time he decided that he could not put up with the Indian 
any longer, and that in spite of the crowded state of the 
town he must move to a Wakalah or inn. Every room 
in the usual native quarter was filled with pilgrims, and 
Burton had to resign himself to the Jamaliyah or Greek 
quarter. Here, however, he was fortunate in meeting 
again his other fellow passenger Haji Wali. They 
became great friends, called on each other frequently, 
dined together, and passed the evening in the mosque 
or other public building. They smoked in secret the 
forbidden weed called ' Hashish, 5 and held long conver- 
sations over their pipes. 

By Haji Wali's advice the Darwaysh laid aside his 
gown and blue pantaloons and ceased to be a Persian. 
He became instead a Pathan, born in India of Afghan 
parents and a wanderer from early youth. He put on 
the smooth manners of an Indian physician and the 
dress of a gentleman while still representing himself 
as a Darwaysh. ' What business,' asked the Haji, 
' have those reverend men with politics or statistics or 
any of the information which you are collecting ? Call 
yourself a religious wanderer if you like, and let those 
who ask the object of your peregrinations know that 
you are under a vow to visit all the holy places of Al- 
Islam. Thus you will persuade them that you are a 
man of rank under a cloud, and you will receive much 
more civility than perhaps you deserve,' he ended, 
laughing. Burton never regretted having followed 
Haji Wali's advice, which probably saved him from 
many small difficulties. 

During his stay in Cairo the Indian doctor practised 
his art with some success. He began by curing an 



RICHARD BURTON 



47 



Abyssinian slave who was ill in the Wakalah, and then 
had to dose half a dozen others to cure them of snoring, 
a disagreeable habit which lowered their price in the 
market. After this he became known outside the 




<*uw 



*L 



' He became instead a Pathan.' 



inn, and was even more successful as a physician than 
he had been at Alexandria. 

He soon decided that he must engage a servant. 
He summoned a Shaykh who supplies such wants, 
and on the following day he selected from among those 
sent a Beriberi by name Ali, whom he engaged. Within 
a fortnight Ali stabbed a fellow servant and had to be 
dismissed. Many other Egyptian servants were tried, 



48 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

but each had some incurable vice, and finally Burton 
decided to keep only an Indian boy, Shaykh Nur by 
name. His next care was to provide himself according 
to custom with a teacher with whom to study Theology 
during his stay in Cairo. He found an old druggist 
called Shaykh Mohammed, who suited him very well, 
and who might have walked straight out of an ' Arabian 
Nights ' tale. His shop front was a hole pierced in the 
wall of a house ; the shop itself was about 5 feet long 
and 6 feet deep, and was divided into two compart- 
ments. The inner one served as store-room and lumber- 
room, and in the outer one were displayed such scanty 
wares as the Shaykh provided. The whole place was 
as dirty and ramshackle as can be imagined, and the 
old man himself, who owned that he knew nothing about 
drugs, never combed his rough grey beard, and his hands 
always looked filthy in spite of the frequent washings 
required of the faithful believer. He seldom had a 
customer beyond the few children who brought farthings 
for pepper and sugar, and he spent the greater part 
of the day asleep on his dirty flea-inhabited palmstick 
stool. 

Burton spent a long time in Cairo, as he had to remain 
there throughout the Ramazan or month of fasting, which 
befell that year in June. The daily routine of this 
period of fasting is very strict. No food must be taken 
after the early breakfast at about 1 a.m. until supper, 
which is not eaten till after sunset. Between these 
hours many prayers and many washings have to be 
gone through, and life during the latter part of the 
afternoon with a blazing sun overhead and an empty 
stomach within is painfully unpleasant. After sunset 
everyone forgets his miseries and crowds as much 



RICHARD BURTON 49 

enjoyment into the evening as he can. On the last 
day of the Ramazan alms are given to the poor, and 
after a special service and sermon at the mosque all 
are free once more to enjoy the ordinary pleasures of 
existence. Dr. Abdullah and his friend the Haji went 
about the city to visit their friends and pay them the 
compliment of the season, which corresponds in many 
ways to our New Year. c Every year may you be 
well,' says the believer as he firmly hugs the friend 
(or enemy as the case may be) whom he chances to meet, 
and lays his face cheek to cheek, making at the same 
time a loud noise of many kisses in the air. 

During the Ramazan Burton had laid in his stores 
for the journey : tea, coffee, loaf sugar, rice, dates, 
biscuits, oil, vinegar, tobacco, lanterns, and cooking- 
pots, a small bell-shaped tent, and three water-skins 
for the desert. The provisions were packed in a c Kafas ' 
or hamper and in a huge wooden box called a Sahharah. 
This box, which was about three feet square, was covered 
with leather and had a small lid fitting into the top so 
that in case of a fall off the camel's back the contents 
would not be likely to tumble out. Burton's money — 
he took about £80 in cash — was distributed between 
himself, Shaykh Nur, and the baggage. He divided 
it in this way because it was more than likely that at 
some time or another the pilgrims would be attacked and 
plundered by the Badawin, the wild men of the desert, 
and if these thieves find a certain amount of money in 
the baggage of a respectable man they refrain from 
searching his person. 

When all these matters were arranged, the Alex- 
andrian passport had to be vised both at the Police 
Office and by the Consul. This was again a most 



50 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

lengthy and troublesome business, but with Haji Wali's 
help it was accomplished, and eventually Dr. Abdullah 
bade farewell to his friends, telling them by way of 
precaution that he was going to Meccah via Jeddah, 
whereas he meant if possible to go first to Al-Madinah 
via Yambii. ' Conceal,' says the Arabs' proverb, ' thy 
Tenets, thy Treasure, and thy Travelling.' 

2. The Voyage of The Golden Thread 

Haji Wali and the old druggist accompanied the 
traveller to the city gate, where they said goodbye 
once more, and Burton, feeling that he was now indeed 
setting out into the unknown, kicked his dromedary 
into a jog-trot so as to keep ahead of the Badawin 
drivers who went with him. But he had eighty-four 
miles of desert before him and a blazing midsummer 
sun overhead, and soon dropped into a more comfortable 
pace. The camel-drivers began to smoke and ask 
questions to pass the time. When they were tired of 
this they talked about food, a topic of supreme interest 
to all travellers whether at the South Pole or at the 
Equator ; when this subject too was exhausted they 
began to sing of cool shades and bubbling streams 
and other delights far removed from the hot and dusty 
present. 

Towards sunset Burton turned off the road to halt 
for supper. Suddenly he was saluted by a strange 
figure who rose in the dusk from a little hollow where 
he had been lying. After the first surprise Burton 
recognised him as Mohammed al-Basyuni, a Meccan 
boy from whom he had bought his pilgrim dress in 
Cairo and whose companionship he had then for various 
reasons refused. Now, however, the boy, who was 



RICHARD BURTON 51 

penniless and meant to attach himself to the rich doctor, 
insisted on making the camel kneel while Burton 
dismounted, and he then took off his slippers, brought 
him water to wash with, and humbly stood behind 
him while he said his prayers. He then lit a pipe which 
he handed to Burton, while he himself rummaged in 
the saddlebags for food. He brought out water-melons, 
boiled eggs and dates, and lit a fire to make the coffee. 
His own meagre store of provisions he distributed 
among the camel men, to their great annoyance and 
disgust. They were still more annoyed when they 
discovered that Dr. Abdullah was not the soft Effendi 
they had supposed, but meant to travel all that night. 
They had counted on the journey lasting at least three 
days, during which time they would get their food 
gratis, and they tried every sort of manoeuvre to delay 
the party, but without success. 

Towards midnight another halt was made, and the 
travellers slept for an hour or two under their sheets 
to protect themselves from the heavy dew and from the 
bright moonlight, believed by ail Easterns to have an 
evil effect on the sleeper. 

When the Wolf's tail — as the Persians call the 
first grey light of dawn — showed in the sky, they 
set forth once more through the early morning haze, 
startling noisy coveys of Kata or sandgrouse as they 
went, and occasionally a stray gazelle. They added a 
rag to the hundreds already hanging on the Pilgrim's 
tree by the wayside, said a prayer, aud pushed on 
throughout another scorching day. 

In the afternoon they rested for a short time in 
the scanty shade of a mimosa. A party of Maghrabi 
pilgrims were also halting here, and Burton, pitying 



52 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

their miserable, half-starved condition, ordered a pint 
of water and a little bread to be served out to each man. 
The pilgrims expressed their gratitude by rudely 
demanding money, at the same time referring to their 
knives. Burton had to produce his pistols to keep 
them quiet. 

Just after sunset, when the desert is tinged with 
magic colours and full of deep mysterious shadows, 
the travellers were cheered by the sight of the sea in 
front of them. But it was quite dark before they 
rode into Suez, and after a long search discovered the 
inn where Shaykh Nur, who had started two days earlier 
with the baggage, had taken rooms. Burton's troubles 
were not yet ended, for the door was locked and no 
servant to be seen. Tired and aching in every bone, 
he had to find a room elsewhere for the night. Shaykh 
Nur turned up next day, just as Burton, by special 
permission of the Turkish Governor, was preparing to 
break open the door. He said he had been led away 
by some Lascar sailors, and made such a show of peni- 
tence that he escaped his well-deserved beating. 

The inn where Burton lodged was dirty and com- 
fortless and overrun with cockroaches, ants, and flies 
innumerable. Pigeons lived among the rafters, and 
cats, goats, and even donkeys passed in and out of the 
rooms as they pleased. The travellers lay about on 
rugs and smoked or inspected each other's baggage. 
The party among whom Burton found himself consisted 
of Omar Effendi, a little fat yellow-faced student on 
his way back to his home at Al-Madinah, whose 
parents had sent a confidential negro servant, Sa'ad al 
Jinni, or the Demon, to fetch him home, if necessary by 
force; Shaykh Hamid al Sammairt, whose nickname 



RICHARD BURTON 53 

signifies ' the Clarified-Butter-Seller,' the title of a well- 
known saint from whom he claimed descent ; and Salih 
Shakkar, a greedy, selfish youth, half Turk half Arab, who 
gave himself great airs and who later on at Al-Madinah 
cut Dr. Abdullah altogether. These men had a twelve 
days' voyage and four days' journey across the desert 
in front of them and could only muster in all about two 
dollars in cash. They had plenty of valuables in kind, 
but would not dream of parting with these, and came 
instead to Dr. Abdullah to beg for a loan. He saw that 
their friendship would be useful to him and so agreed 
to lend them a small sum each, for which he accepted 
various gifts in return, knowing well that he would never 
see his money back. His debtors then became quite 
affectionate, and decided, as Haji Wali had foretold, 
that Dr. Abdullah was a great man under a cloud. 
Thev asked him to take his meals with them, consulted 
him on every occasion, and carefully examined all his 
clothes and belongings. This was the only time that 
Dr. Abdullah was suspected by his friends of being an 
infidel in disguise. When they saw his sextant their 
faces changed, and as soon as he left the room the boy 
Mohammed, whose sharp wits Burton had originally 
mistrusted, declared that their fellow pilgrim was one 
of the infidels from India. Fortunately he was un- 
supported. Omar Effendi had slyly read a letter written 
that morning by Dr. Abdullah to his friend Haji Wali, 
and felt convinced the writer was no infidel. Shaykh 
Hamid, who looked forward to having the rich doctor 
as his guest at Al-Madinah, swore that the light of Islam 
was upon his countenance, and the boy Mohammed 
was generally abused and told to ' fear Allah.' How- 
ever, Burton reluctantly decided to leave his sextant 



54 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

behind, and he prayed five times a day for the next week 
to impress his companions. 

The usual passport difficulties recurred, and were 
settled eventually with the help of the British Vice- 
Consul, Mr. West, who had been warned to expect 
Burton, and who cleverly saw through his .disguise and 
by his firmness prevailed on the Turkish Bey to put 
Dr. Abdullah's papers in order. 

The rest of the party had meanwhile secured places 
for themselves and Burton on the poop of The Golden 
Thready a fifty -ton sailing vessel, undecked except for 
the poop, and without compass, sounding lines, spare 
ropes, or chart. She was anchored three or four miles 
from the Suez pier, and her passengers had to embark 
in skiffs or shore boats. The confusion Was very great. 
6 Suppose us gathered upon the beach,' writes Burton, 
* on the morning of a fiery July day, carefully watching 
our hurriedly packed goods and chattels, surrounded 
by a mob of idlers, who are not too proud to pick up 
waifs and strays ; whilst pilgrims are rushing about 
apparently mad, and friends are weeping, acquaintances 
are vociferating adieux, boatmen are demanding fees, 
shopmen are claiming debts, women are shrieking 
and talking with inconceivable power, and children 
are crying, — in short for an hour or so we stand in the 
thick of a human storm. To confound confusion the 
boatmen have moored their skiff half a dozen yards 
away from the shore, lest the porters should be able 
to make more than double their fare from the Hajis. 
Again the Turkish women make a hideous noise as they 
are carried off struggling vainly in brawny arms ; the 
children howl because their mothers howl ; and the 
men scold and swear, because in such scenes none may 



RICHARD BURTON 55 

be silent. The moment we had embarked, each in- 
dividual found that he or she had missed something 
of vital importance — a pipe, a child, a box, or a water- 
melon ; and naturally all the servants were in the 
bazars when they should have been in the boat. Briefly, 
despite the rage of the sailors, who feared being too 
late for a second trip, we stood some time on the beach 
before putting off.' 

When they arrived on board The Golden Thread 
they found an even worse pandemonium, the hold was 
piled with human beings and luggage, and more and 
more Arabs were pouring over the sides. The owner 
had greedily given places to ninety-seven instead of 
to only sixty passengers as promised at first, and even 
the poop was occupied. Presently Sa'ad the Demon, 
who had got himself up as an able seaman to escape 
having to pay for his passage, came on board and pre- 
pared for action. The intruders on the poop and their 
boxes were speedily pushed off into the crowd below, and 
Dr. Abdullah and his friends and four other travellers, 
besides the captain and some of the crew — making 
eighteen persons in all — settled down to live on a space 
about ten feet by eight feet. The tiny cabin, a box 
about three feet high, was full of women and children, 
fifteen in number. Burton tried to make himself more 
comfortable by appropriating the use of a sailor's cot 
slung over the side of the ship, for which he paid a 
dollar. But he did not really fare much better than 
the others. 

There was a great deal of fighting among the 
Mahgrabi pilgrims in the hold. Daggers were drawn, 
and five men were very badly wounded. This 
frightened the rabble, who decided to send a deputation 



56 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

on shore to Ali Murad, the owner of the ship. Three 
hours later this individual appeared in a small boat, 
which kept its distance while he shouted out that 
anyone who liked might leave the ship and take back 
his fare. No one would do this, so Ali Murad went back 
to Suez, telling them all to be good and not fight, but to 
trust in Allah, who would make things easy for them. 
After this there was a second fight, and the party on the 
poop had to defend themselves with thick ashen staves 
provided by Sa'ad the Demon, who fought furiously 
both with words and blows. Presently Burton noticed 
a huge earthen water jar standing on the edge of the 
poop, and seizing a favourable moment he tipped it 
over on to the crowd below. The jar broke into many 
pieces, and the Mahgrabis, bruised and drenched by 
this unexpected onslaught, retired to the other end of 
the ship. After a few minutes a deputation came to 
beg for peace, which was granted on condition that they 
pledged themselves to keep it, 

At last, at about 2 p.m. on July 6, The Golden 
Thread set sail, and Burton saw the British flag over 
the Consul's house grow smaller and smaller in the 
distance as he left Egypt behind him. ' I had lived 
there,' he writes, ' a stranger in the land, and a hapless 
life it had been : in the streets every man's face as he 
looked upon the Persian was the face of a foe. When- 
ever I came in contact with the native officials, insolence 
marked the event, and the circumstance of living within 
hail of my fellow countrymen and yet finding it 
impossible to enjoy their society still throws a gloom 
over the memory of my first sojourning in Egypt.' 

At sunset the ship anchored for the night. She 
sailed again early in the morning, and after a breakfast 



RICHARD BURTON 57 

of hard biscuits — the provision box being in the hold 
and quite unapproachable — Burton betook himself 
to his hanging cot, where he was constantly drenched 
with spray and dared not sleep for fear of tumbling 
overboard. That night the party from the poop 
supped and slept on shore in comfort in Pharaoh's 
Bay, and dreamt of the fresh dates they should eat 
on the morrow in the harbour of Tur. But daybreak 
found the ship stranded. The tide had ebbed in the 
night and left her high and dry. No amount of pushing 
had the least effect until after nine o'clock, when the 
water had risen a little and a final effort on the part 
of all the pilgrims directed by Burton was successful. 

It was noon before all were once more on board 
and The Golden Thread sailed with a fair wind. 
They did not reach Tur until noon of the following day. 

A fleecy cloud hung over the hills when they arrived, 
and the captain predicted a storm ; but with sweet 
water to drink, dates, grapes, and pomegranates to eat, 
and the various sights of this old Phoenician colony to 
be visited, Burton did not at all mind the prospect of 
delay. 

They did not leave Tur till the morning of the 11th 
when the storm was over, and the next thirty-six hours 
were spent on board without a break. This was a trial 
even to the natives. Omar Effendi and Salih Shakkar 
both fell ill and even the boy Mohammed ceased to 
chatter and scold. In spite of their own troubles they 
each took their turn at nursing a miserable Turkish 
baby to relieve the poor mother, to whom they showed 
every consideration out of genuine kindness of heart 
and politeness. Salih Shakkar was the only ex- 
ception. 



58 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

Towards evening the breeze grew cooler. The 
travellers revived and ate a scanty supper of rice and 
dates, followed by songs and story -telling until bedtime. 

Marsa Damghah, the next mooring-place, was 
reached at sunset on the 12th ; Al-Wijh on the 13th. 
All the next day the ship threaded her way among 
coral reefs and narrowly escaped frequent accidents. 
The sea here was very clear and of many wonderful 
colours, and the rocks were thronged with gulls and 
terns. By moonlight the scene was even more beautiful, 
for wherever the sea touched the rocks it was lit by what 
the Arabs call ; the jewels of the deep ' — brilliant flashes 
of phosphorescence which they suppose to come from 
the necklaces of the mermaids and mermen. 

Whilst wading ashore at Marsa Mahar, the next 
landing-place, Burton ran the prickle of a sea urchin 
into his foot, and though he thought very little of it 
at the time it soon became inflamed and painful, and did 
not heal until after he returned to Egypt. All tempers 
were the worse for the prolonged strain, but at last, 
about noon on the 12th day after leaving Suez, Yambii 
was reached, and the travellers said goodbye to The 
Golden Thread with reviving spirits. 

3. Caravanning in the Hijaz 

Yambii is the port for Al-Madinah as Jeddah is for 
Meccah, and it does a considerable trade in grain, dates, 
and henna. It marks the third quarter of the caravan 
road from Cairo to Meccah. The authority of the 
Pasha of Egypt here ceases, and the Sultan's dominion 
begins. The town stands on the edge of a sunburnt 
plain, and is one of the few towns in this part of Al- 
Hijaz where there is sweet rain-water to drink. This 



RICHARD BURTON 



59 



is collected among the hills in tanks and cisterns and 
brought down on the backs of camels. 

Burton's foot had become very painful from the 




' This curtained wicker erection, called a Shugduf , is strapped 
onto the dromedary's back.' 

effect of the sun and the sea-water, and he could hardly 
put it to the ground. But he was determined to see 
all that was to be seen, and went off leaning on his 
servant's shoulder, while the rest of the party saw the 
luggage through the customs. He made his lameness 
an excuse for buying a litter in which to travel on to 
Al-Madinah. This curtained wicker erection, called a 



60 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

Shugduf, is strapped onto the dromedary's back, andfrom 
inside Burton would find it easier to take notes unseen. 

He hired two animals, one for his luggage and 
his servant and the other for himself and the boy 
Mohammed. For these he agreed to pay three dollars 
apiece, half in ready money and the other half on arrival. 
He and his party were to travel on the following evening 
with a grain caravan and a Turkish escort. 

The camels arrived at the gate at noon. There 
was the usual trouble in loading them, but by 3 o'clock 
all was ready and the camels were formed up in line. 
By this time all the men had dispersed about the town, 
and it was late in the afternoon before the travellers 
mounted. ' At 6 p.m.,' writes Burton, ' descending 
the stairs of our Wakalah, we found the camels standing 
loaded in the street and shifting their ground in token 
of impatience. My Shugduf, perched upon the back 
of a tall, strong animal, nodded and swayed about 
with his every motion, impressing me with the idea 
that the first step would throw it over the shoulders 
or the crupper. The camel man told me I must climb 
up the animal's neck, and so creep into the vehicle. 
But my foot disabling me from such exertion, I insisted 
upon their bringing the beast to squat, which they did 
grumblingly. We took leave of Omar Effendi's brothers 
and their dependents, who insisted upon paying us the 
compliment of accompanying us to the gate. Then 
we mounted and started, which was a signal for all 
our party to disperse once more. 5 

A rumour was heard of a vessel having arrived 
from Suez with friends on board, and many of the 
pilgrims rushed down to the harbour. Others went 
off to fetch some forgotten necessary or to snatch a 



RICHARD BURTON 61 

last hour's gossip in a cafe. c Then the sun set, and 
prayers must be said. The brief twilight had almost 
faded away before all had mounted. With loud cries 
of " Wassit, ya hii ! — Go in the middle of the road 
O He ! " and " Jannib, y'al Jammal !— Keep to the 
side O camel-man ! ' we threaded our way through 
long, dusty, narrow streets, flanked with white-washed 
habitations at considerable intervals, and large heaps 
of rubbish, sometimes higher than the houses.' 

There was a delicious freshness in the air when at 
last they passed through the city gate out of the dark 
streets into the dazzling light of the full moon across 
the rugged plain. 

Burton's party consisted of twelve camels, and 
they travelled in Indian file, head tied to tail. Omar 
Effendi, mounted on a dromedary with showy trappings 
as befitted his rank, rode alongside. The others in their 
shabbiest, coarsest clothes sat up or dozed on the lids 
of their luggage-boxes. The caravan consisted of 200 
camels carrying grain together with their owners and 
a mounted escort of seven Turkish cavalry to defend 
them from the Badawin and from Sa'ad, the Old Man 
of the Mountains, of whom many fearsome tales were 
told. 

At 3 a.m. they halted, having travelled only about 
sixteen miles in the eight hours. Rugs were spread 
on the ground, and everyone slept till 9 o'clock. Then, 
after breakfast and a smoke and mutual congratula- 
tions on finding themselves once more in the ' dear 
desert,' they slept again till 2 p.m., and were ready to 
march at 3. 

At dusk there was a cry of c Harami ' (thieves), 
which caused great confusion among the camel men \ 



62 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

but the thieves were cowards and few in number, 
and ran away when the first bullets were fired in their 
direction. Worse things, however, were to be expected, 
and the spirits of the travellers fell. They were much 
relieved when on the 21st, at Al-Hamra, they joined up 
with a big caravan on its way to Al-Madinah from 
Meccah. 

That night there was a sudden halt, caused by a 
band of Badawin, who blocked the mouth of a gorge 
in the hills and ordered the caravan to stop, demanding 
money before it might pass on. When they discovered 
that the travellers were pilgrims the Badawin allowed 
them to pass on condition that all the soldiers went 
back. The escort, 200 strong, promptly turned their 
horses' heads round and made for home, and the caravan 
moved on without even seeing the robbers. Burton's 
camel-man pointed to their haunts in the hills and 
asked him with a sneer : c Why don't you load your 
pistols, Effendi, and get out oi your litter, and show 
fight ? ' ' Because,' replied Burton equally loudly, 
1 in my country when dogs run at us, we thrash them 
with sticks.' The camel-man was silenced for the time 
being. 

At four in the morning they reached Bir Abbas, 
having travelled eighty-eight miles since leaving 
Yambii. The camping ground here was a bed of loose 
sand, and the air was thick with it. There was not a 
tree or a bush to be seen, and the only live creatures 
were locusts and swarms of flies. This day, July 22, 
was a trial to everyone's temper, and there were many 
quarrels and disputes about trifles. A small caravan 
came in during the morning with two dead bodies ; 
one man had been shot by the Badawin and the other 



RICHARD BURTON 63 

had died of sunstroke or the fiery wind. Another 
caravan hurried by soon after midday. It was on its 
way to Meccah and seemed in undue haste. 

Burton's party grew more and more anxious about 
themselves and their valuables, especially when towards 
evening a distant sound of firing was heard. They 
told him the hill men and the troops were fighting, but 
Burton was more than ever impatient to go forward. 
After supper they all sat and smoked together in the 
cool night air, and frightened themselves as usual with 
tales of Shaykh Sa'ad, the Old Man of the Mountains. 

' The next day,' writes Burton, 6 was a forced halt, 
a sore stimulant to the travellers' ill-humour ; and 
the sun, the sand, the dust, the furious Sumum, and 
the want of certain small supplies aggravated our 
grievance. My sore foot had been inflamed by a dressing 
of onion skin which the lady Maryam (a fellow pilgrim) 
had insisted upon applying to it. Still being resolved 
to push forward by any conveyance that could be 
procured, I offered ten dollars for a fresh dromedary 
to take me on to Al-Madinah. Shaykh Hamid also 
declared he would leave his box in charge of a friend 
and accompany me. Sa'ad the Demon flew into a 
passion at the idea of any member of the party escaping 
the general evil ; and he privily threatened Mohammed 
to cut off the legs of any camel that ventured into camp. 
This, the boy — who, like a boy of the world as he was, 
never lost an opportunity of making mischief — in- 
stantly communicated to me, and it brought on a furious 
dispute. Sa'ad was reproved and apologised for by 
the rest of the party ; and presently he himself was 
pacified, principally, I believe, by the intelligence 
that no camel was to be hired at Bir Abbas.' 



64 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

About sunset on July 23 came a report that they 
were to start that night. They went to sleep with each 
camel's pack ready apart so that it could be loaded at 
a moment's notice. ' At last about 11 p.m., as the moon 
was beginning to peep over the eastern wall of rock, 
was heard the glad sound of the little kettledrum 
calling the Albanian troopers to mount and march. 
In the shortest possible time all made ready ; and 
hurriedly crossing the sandy flat, we found ourselves 
in company with three or four caravans, forming one 
large body for better defence against the dreaded 
Hawamid,' the tribesmen of Shaykh Sa'ad. Burton's 
party were the last comers and had to fight their way 
into the middle of the procession. The rear is the 
place of danger, and no one likes to find himself there. 

At early dawn the caravan entered the ill-famed 
gorge called the Pilgrimage Pass, and as the pilgrims 
went up it in anxious silence they were suddenly aware 
of thin blue curls of smoke among the rocks. Directly 
after shots rang out and echoed across the gorge. The 
Badawin swarmed on to the cliffs like cats and fired 
down on to the caravan from their impregnable positions. 
They fired chiefly on the escort, and it was useless to 
retaliate as the enemy kept well hidden behind the 
stones. Besides, had one of these robbers been killed 
the whole country would have risen and would probably 
have destroyed the caravan to a man. The Albanian 
soldiers called for help from a party of Shaykhs. ' But 
the dignified old men, dismounting and squatting in 
council round their pipes, came to the conclusion that, 
as the robbers would probably turn a deaf ear to their 
words, they had better spare themselves the trouble 
of speaking.' The travellers covered themselves with 




Tired down on to the caravan from their impregnable positions.' 



66 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

as much smoke as possible and pushed on. They lost 
altogether twelve men besides a number of camels. 
At eleven next morning they reached Suwaykah, where 
Burton pitched his tent under a mimosa tree, whose 
shade is described by the Badawin as resembling a 
false friend who deserts you when you most need him. 
They left again at 4 p.m., and the night passed in 
quarrels between the boy Mohammed and the camel- 
men, whom he succeeded in provoking so successfully 
that they disappeared altogether. Mohammed shouted 
after them furiously when he found the dromedaries 
stumbling and falling once in every mile, but he got 
nothing but black looks from the other camel-men, 
who muttered, ' By Allah ! and by Allah ! and by Allah ! 
O boy, we will flog thee like a hound when we catch 
thee in the desert.' Mohammed lost his temper entirely, 
and Burton was so much interested in listening to this 
torrent of idiomatic abuse that he did not try to stop 
him. The result was that the already damaged Shug- 
duf was reduced to ruins by his fellow-travellers, and he 
and Mohammed journeyed the remainder of the way 
perched up like birds on the bare framework. 

At sunrise on the 25th Burton noticed that every- 
one was suddenly hurrying on in spite of the rough 
ground. c Are there robbers in sight ? ' he asked. 6 No/ 
replied Mohammed, ' they are walking with their eyes, 
they will presently see their homes.' Not long after 
they arrived at the top of a ridge and Al-Madinah lay 
before them. Everyone dismounted and sat down to 
feast his eyes on the Holy City with many exclamations 
of delight. Burton remembered the phrase in the 
Moslem ritual : ' And when his eyes shall fall upon the 
trees of Al-Madinah let him raise his Voice and bless 



RICHARD BURTON 67 

the Apostle with the choicest of Blessings.' He, too, 
joined in the general thanksgiving at the sight of the 
gardens and orchards surrounding the town after eight 
days' journey through the wilderness. 

4. August in Al-Madinah 

The city lay about two miles below them, and 
the four tall towers and green dome under which 
the Apostle is supposed to lie buried were very con- 
spicuous. So were the celebrated palm-groves known 
throughout Al-Islam as the 'Trees of Al-Madinah.' 
Burton mounted again and went on towards the gate. 
His companions preferred to walk, as it was more con- 
venient for kissing the many friends and relations 
who came out to greet them so affectionately. They 
entered by the Bab Ambari and passed along the streets 
till they reached the entrance to Hamid's house. He 
had ridden ahead to prepare for his guests, but even 
so their camels remained kneeling for five minutes 
before he was ready to come out to greet them. He 
was hardly recognisable with his head and face shaved 
and a clean muslin turband and neat little upturned 
moustaches. He had discarded his tattered shirt, 
and wore instead a pink merino cloak over a flowered 
1 caftan ' and a fringed plaid-patterned sash wound 
round his waist. His pantaloons were of silk and cotton 
gaily edged round the ankles, and his shoes of lemon- 
coloured leather were the latest fashion from Con- 
stantinople. He carried a mother-of-pearl rosary in 
one hand and an elegant pipe with an amber mouth- 
piece in the other, and his tobacco pouch of broadcloth 
richly embroidered with gold dangled from his waist. 
All the travellers dressed up in the same manner during 



68 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

the first days of their return to Al-Madinah. After 
this their finery was put away, to be used again on 
state occasions only. 

Shaykh Hamid took Burton by the hand and led 
him up to the parlour. Here pipes were prepared and 
diwans spread in readiness for the customary calls 
from friends and relations, who are all expected to come 
on the very day of the traveller's arrival home. They 
soon began to pour in ; each visitor stayed for about 
half an hour ; then after a smoke and a cup of coffee, 
interspersed with much conversation and gossip, he 
suddenly got up, embraced his host, and went away. 

When nearly all the strangers had left, in rushed a 
horde of mischievous children, who pulled to pieces 
everything they could lay their hands on. Burton 
objected when one small boy aged three trod on his 
wounded foot, and was at once informed that his father 
had a sword at home and would cut his throat from ear 
to ear. Another boy snatched up his loaded pistol 
and held it to a companion's head. Fortunately the 
trigger was stiff and it was at half cock, so no damage 
was done. 

Burton at last could bear it no longer, and in spite 
of Mohammed's feelings on the subject of etiquette 
he told his host that he was hungry, thirsty, and sleepy, 
and wanted to be alone before visiting the Harim, a 
duty required of the pious upon arrival. 6 The good- 
natured Shaykh, 5 writes Burton, ' who was preparing 
to go out at once to pray before his father's grave, 
immediately brought me breakfast, lighted a pipe, 
spread a bed, darkened the room, turned out the 
children, and left me to the society I most desired — 
my own. I then overheard him summon his mother, 



RICHARD BURTON 69 

wife, and other female relatives into the store-room 
where his treasures had been carefully stowed away. 
During the forenoon, in the presence of the visitors, 
one of Hamid's uncles had urged him, half jocularly, 
to bring out the Sahharah. The Shaykh did not care 
to do anything of the kind. Every time a new box is 
opened in this part of the world, the owner's generosity 
is appealed to by those whom a refusal offends, and 
he must allow himself to be plundered with the best 
possible grace. Hamid therefore prudently suffered 
all to depart before exhibiting his spoils, which, to 
judge by the exclamations of delight which they elicited 
from feminine lips, proved highly satisfactory to those 
concerned.' 

Burton never saw any of the women, and never 
even heard the voice of the young mistress of the house, 
who stayed all day in the upper rooms. Hamid's 
old mother sometimes came out on the stairs and 
shouted to her son or to Burton if no one was about. 
The days were passed in this way : The first breakfast 
was at dawn, and consisted of a piece of stale bread 
followed by a pipe and a cup of coffee. Then, after 
dressing, a visit was paid to the Harim or to some other 
Holy Place. As soon as the sun began to get hot the 
pilgrims went back to the house and smoked and 
talked till 11 o'clock, when dinner was served on a 
large copper tray. Everyone sat round and dipped 
their hands in it, helping themselves to meat and 
vegetable stew, followed by boiled rice and then fresh 
dates, grapes and pomegranates. Burton always found 
an excuse for a midday siesta, and lay reading and 
dozing and taking surreptitious notes on a rug spread 
in the dark passage behind the parlour until sunset. 



70 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

Then came the hour for paying and receiving visits, 
followed by evening prayers and another substantial 
meal. In the evening more visiting, smoking, and 
chatting until bedtime. 

However great the heat by day the nights were 
always cool, but they were apt to be disturbed by the 
troopers' horses, who were continually breaking loose 
and causing mischief. Burton describes how an old 
hobbled nag, ' having slipped the headstall, would 
advance with kangaroo leaps towards a neighbour 
against whom it had a private grudge. Their heads 
would touch for a moment ; then came a snort and a 
whinny, a furious kick, and, lastly, a second horse loose 
and dashing about with head and tail viciously cocked. 
This was the signal for a general breaking of halters 
and heel-ropes ; after which a stampede scoured the 
plain, galloping, rearing, kicking, biting, snorting, 
pawing, and screaming, with the dogs barking 
sympathetically, and the horse-keepers shouting in 
hot pursuit.' 

Burton's foot still gave him great pain, and he 
decided that he must have a donkey to carry him to 
the prophet's tomb. Shaykh Hamid sent for one, and 
c a wretched animal appeared, raw-backed, lame of 
one leg, and wanting an ear, with accoutrements to 
match, a pack-saddle without stirrups, and a halter 
instead of a bridle. Such as the brute was, however, 
I had to mount it, and to ride through the Misri gate, 
to the wonder of certain Badawin, who, like the Indians, 
despise the ass. 

" Honourable is the riding of a horse to the rider, 
But the mule is a dishonour, and the donkey a disgrace," 



RICHARD BURTON 71 

says their song. 5 They decided (audibly) that he 
must be a Turk, and asked : ; By what curse of Allah 
have we been subjected to ass-riders ? ' 

The narrow streets had been freshly watered and 
were very muddy. After passing through them for 
some time they came suddenly upon the mosque. It 
has no approach, and Burton on entering was surprised 
at its mean and tawdry appearance — it was altogether 
more like an old curiosity shop than a dignified religious 
building. 

Shaykh Hamid fought a way through the crowd 
of beggars, and he and Burton walked slowly down the 
building reciting the preliminary prayer. Then they 
passed into the Ranzah or ' Garden.' Here the carpets 
are flowered and arabesque vegetation twines round 
the pillars. At the back is the green and gilt filigree 
railing of the prophet's tomb looking in the distance 
rather like a huge bird-cage. At night when lamps 
and candles are lit the whole effect is picturesque ; 
but by daylight it is a poor and tawdry imitation of 
a garden. 

After the correct prayers had been repeated here 
the Mausoleum itself was entered under the green 
dome that the pilgrims had looked down upon from a 
distance. Within an inner railing are the tombs of 
Mohammed, Abu Bakr, Omar and Fatimah. Opposite 
each is a small window or opening through which the 
pilgrims can look. The exact place of Mohammed's 
tomb was marked by a large pearl rosary and an 
ornament supposed to be of great value, but it reminded 
Burton of the glass stoppers of an ordinary decanter. 
He did not wish to pay the large sum necessary to 
gain admission to the tomb itself, but passed on with 



72 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

Shaykh Hamid to the sixth station, where lies the body 
of the Lady Fatimah, daughter of the prophet, outside 
the curtain surrounding her father's remains. 

Eventually they returned to ' the Garden, 5 and on 
his way out Burton was beset by beggars of every kind, 
who, seeing the boy Mohammed's handsome embroidered 
coat, decided that his master must be very rich. Burton 
had to part with nearly £l instead of about ten shillings 
as he had intended. 

Besides the tomb of the prophet there were several 
other holy places round the city to be visited. Early 
one morning Burton started for the Mosque of Kuba. 
The boy Mohammed had procured for him a Meccan 
dromedary with a magnificent saddle covered with a 
crimson sheepskin and with enormous tassels hanging 
almost to the ground. The boy himself walked, as 
he was too proud to ride a donkey and could not 
get hold of a horse. He wore the same gorgeous 
embroidered coat that had cost Burton so dear at the 
prophet's tomb, and he carried a pistol which he was 
longing for an opportunity to use, Shaykh Hamid 
was mounted on an ass more miserable even than 
Burton's original mount. 

They left the town and passed southwards through 
the palm groves. There was a gentle breeze, rare in 
Al-Hijaz, and the warbling of small birds mingled with 
the splash of water from the wells into the wooden 
troughs and the sound of the Persian water-wheels. 
The famous date trees were loaded with great clusters 
of fruit weighing upwards of eighty pounds each. There 
are said to be 139 different varieties of date. The 
best, called Al-Shelebi, is packed in skins or flat boxes 
and sent all over the world, but it is too expensive for 




1 The boy Mohammed had procured for him a Meccan dromedary 
with a magnificent saddle.' 



74 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

the natives. Then there is the Ajwah, which may be 
eaten but not sold, because the prophet declared that 
whoever broke his fast daily with six or seven of these 
dates need not fear poison or magic. Another — Al- 
Hilwah — is so called from its remarkable sweetness. 
The legend runs that Mohammed once planted a stone 
which grew up in a few minutes into this tree and bore 
fruit at once. There is also Al-Birni, the cure for all 
sickness, and Wahshi, which once salamed to the prophet 
and ever since bows down its head, and many others. 
The natives speak of their dates as the Irishman speaks 
of his potatos, and they are eaten both for food and 
medicine. The most usual method is to broil them 
in clarified butter, a most unappetising dish to a 
European, but when an Oriental cannot enjoy it his 
stomach is considered to be out of order. The children 
wear necklaces made of the unripe fruit strung on thread 
after being dipped in boiling water to keep the bright 
yellow colour. Needless to say they munch their 
necklaces whenever no one is looking. The quantity 
of fruit at Al-Madinah is due to the abundance of the 
water supply, and to this the town owes its prosperity. 
Each garden has its own well and water-wheel, which 
floods the soil every third day even in the hottest 
weather. Between the gardens are narrow lanes 
fenced on each side with reeds and overhung with 
tamarisk. 

After threading their way for some time through 
these lanes and groves the pilgrims caught sight of the 
minaret of Kuba through the trees. They soon reached 
the village, a collection of huts and towers, dirty lanes 
and heaps of rubbish and barking dogs. A dozen 
infants rushed out demanding Bakshish. They were 



RICHARD BURTON 75 

quite naked and each carried a fierce-looking baby 
exactly like himself, only even noisier. They were 
left in charge of the animals, while Burton and his 
friends pulled off their slippers and entered the mosque, 
which is built over the supposed place where 
Mohammed's she-camel knelt down on the flight from 
Meccah to Al-Madinah. 

After performing the necessary rites Burton came 
out into a garden where there was a deep well. The 
heat was already overpowering, although it was only 
9 o'clock, and he refused to do any more praying, but 
lay down and fell asleep to the sound of the water- 
wheel. When the others had smoked for a while they 
woke him up and returned to Al-Madinah. 

On August 28 the great caravan from Damascus 
arrived. This was an event anxiously looked for by 
the inhabitants, because it brought the new curtain 
for the prophet's tomb and also the annual stipends 
and pensions for the citizens. Many friends too returned 
home with it. 

When Burton looked out the following morning a 
whole town of variously shaped and coloured tents 
had sprung up, pitched in a most orderly manner in 
groups and rows. But the confusion, the bustling, 
and the noise of the population were indescribable. 
Camels with their nodding litters, flocks of goats and 
sheep, water-carriers, fruit- sellers, shopmen, soldiers, 
women and children, pushing, running and tumbling 
in every direction, and raising a dust as thick as a 
London fog. 

The Damascus caravan was to leave again on 
September 1. Burton had intended to wait two days 
longer in Al-Madinah and travel with the Kafilat-al- 



76 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

Tayyarah, or the Flying Caravan, which carries less 
weight and travels faster. But early on the morning 
of August 30, Shaykh Hamid hurried in from the bazar 
exclaiming : ' You must make ready at once, Effendi ! 
— There will be no Tayyarah — all Hajis start to-morrow 
— Allah will make it easy to you ! Have you your 
water-skins in order ? — You are to travel down the 
Darb-al-Sharki, where you will not see water for three 
days ! ' Hamid imagined that he was bringing bad 
news, little thinking that Burton was inwardly delighted 
at the prospect of travelling by the celebrated route 
through the Nijd desert, the route which had been 
followed by Harun-al-Rashid and the Lady Zubaydah 
of the • Arabian Nights 5 Tales ' and which no European 
traveller had ever yet seen. 

5. By the Road of Harun-al-Rashid 

A general bustle began. The boy Mohammed 
hurried out to buy a new Shugduf, and also a Shibrayah 
or cot for Shaykh Nur, who was tired of sleeping on 
boxes. He spent the rest of the day in covering and 
mending the litter and making large provision pockets 
inside and out, and pouches for the water gugglets. 
No workmen were procurable, so Burton himself had 
to sit down and patch the rat-holes in the water-skins, 
while Shaykh Nur went out to buy the supplies. They 
took provisions enough for fourteen days, as the camel- 
men expect to be fed, but the journey should last only 
eleven days. 

Shaykh Hamid undertook to procure the camels, 
the most important part of the whole business. He 
brought back a boy and an old man called Mas'ud of 
the Rahlah, who after drinking a cup of coffee intimated 



RICHARD EURTON 77 

that he was ready to open negotiations. Burton 
began with, 6 We want men, and not camels, 5 and a 
long discussion followed. Finally terms were agreed 
to by both parties. 6 Hamid then addressed to me, 5 
writes Burton, c flowery praises of the old Badawi. 
After which, turning to the latter, he exclaimed, " Thou 
wilt treat these friends well, O Mas'ud the Harbi ! 55 
The ancient replied with a dignity that had no pom- 
posity in it, — " Even as Abu Shawarib — the Father 
of Moustachios — behaveth to us, so will we behave to 
him ! " 5 As soon as they had left Shaykh Hamid 
shook his head and advised Burton to give them plenty 
to eat. He was also to keep the water-skins on a camel 
in front and to hang them, contrary to custom, with 
their tied mouths upwards, for the Badawin were very 
fond of drinking pilgrims 5 water on the sly. 

Burton 5 s friends came in during the afternoon to 
say good-bye and bring him small souvenirs in the 
shape of pencils and a penknife. Omar Effendi and 
Shaykh Hamid both hinted that they meant soon to 
escape again from their families and resume their travels. 
Omar Effendi turned up later with his father in Meccah 
before Burton left. 

The boy Mohammed was still working at the 
Shugduf an hour after sunset, but everything else was 
ready. Various small debts were settled and the 
luggage carried down and arranged so that it could 
be loaded at a moment's notice. At 2 a.m., as no gun 
had sounded, Burton lay down and went to sleep, 
congratulating himself on having got through the first 
part of his pilgrimage so successfully. Once at Meccah 
he would be so near the coast that even if detected he 
would probably be able to escape to Yeddah and put 



78 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

himself under the protection of the English vice-consul 
there. 

At 8 o'clock next morning Mas'ud the camel-man 
hurried in and said the camels must be loaded at once. 
An hour later Burton embraced his friends affectionately, 
and mounted with the boy Mohammed in the litter 
while Shaykh Nur climbed into his cot. They passed 
out of the town northwards in company with some 
Turks and Meccans who were also riding camels belong- 
ing to Mas'ud. At a place called Al-Ghadir or the 
Basin, the pilgrims dismounted for a last view of the 
ancient minarets and the green dome of the Holy 
City. 

At noon they continued their march across rough 
and stony ground with here and there a thorny acacia 
and traces of volcanic lava. Late in the afternoon 
they passed the dead bodies of many camels and asses 
which had succumbed to the heat. Troops of half- 
starved Takruri pilgrims were cutting steaks out of 
the carcases to carry on with them till they had an 
opportunity to cook them. 

The travellers arrived at Ja Al-Sharifah, twenty- 
two miles from Al-Madinah, at 8 o'clock and halted 
for the night. Burton's tent had already been pitched 
by a man sent on ahead. A fire was lit and the usual 
supper of rice, chutnee, and tough mutton or goat was 
prepared. The departure gun went at 3 next morning, 
and Burton and his companions hurried off to join up 
with the main body of the caravan which could be seen 
winding slowly across the plain. It consisted of about 
7000 people travelling in every variety of manner, on 
foot, on horses, asses, mules or camels, each dressed 
according to his rank, from the meanest half-naked 



RICHARD BURTON 79 

Takruri to the scarlet and gilt and embroidered robes 
of the grandees. 

In the afternoon of September 2 the direction of 
the march changed to the south-west. A halt was 
made to replenish the water supply. Mas'ud said his 
camels had not drunk for twenty hours and would 
sink by the roadside unless they were refreshed. He 
and the boy Mohammed went off with several water- 
bags to the wells two miles away. They did not return 
till after dark, having had great difficulty in getting 
the water, for the wells were held by the soldiers, who 
asked large sums of money from anyone coming to draw 
water. However, they brought with them two skins 
full, and the boy Mohammed was so pleased with him- 
self that he drank clarified butter and ate mashed dates 
that night to such an extent that he made himself 
quite ill, and thought he was going to die. 

6 We passed a pleasant hour or two, 5 writes Burton, 
' before sleeping. I began to like the old Shaykh 
Mas'ud, who, seeing it, entertained me with his 
genealogy, his battles, and his family affairs. The 
rest of the party could not prevent expressing con- 
tempt when they heard me putting frequent questions 
about torrents, hills, Badawin and the directions of 
places. " Let the Father of Moustachios ask and learn," 
said the old man ; " he is friendly with the Badawin, 
and knows better than you all." 5 

The departure gun woke everyone at 1 o'clock 
the next morning. ' Choose early Darkness for your 
Wayfarings, 5 said the Prophet, ' as the Calamities of 
the Earth (serpents and wild beasts) appear not at 
Night. 5 But Burton fumed and fretted at these night 
marches, both because of the extreme discomfort and 



80 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

the slackness that resulted by day, and also because 
it was too dark for him to see anything of the country. 
After dawn he was able to take some notes. Between 
6 and 7 they crossed a ridge of hills covered with rocks 
and boulders. The surefootedness of the camels was 
extraordinary. Not one fell, though they frequently 
moaned when puzzled by sudden turns in the path. 
They descended the other side into an acacia-barren, 
a tract of country dreaded by all pilgrims, for the long 
thorny branches catch in everything, and Shugdufs are 
often dragged completely off and broken on the ground. 

After crossing a second ridge the caravan descended 
into another hill- encircled plain across which scudded 
pillars of sand, occasionally throwing down both camel 
and rider. 

A halt was made and tents pitched in the afternoon 
at Al-Hijriyah, and the water-supply was again re- 
plenished. From here it was about twenty-eight miles 
on to Al-Suwayrkiyah in the territory of the Sharif 
of Meccah, where they arrived on the evening of 
September 4. 

Up till now the party with whom Burton travelled 
had kept on good terms with each other, but at Al- 
Suwayrkiyah a commotion was caused by a most 
typical old Arab called Ali bin Ya Sin. He was by 
profession a dispenser of holy water, and owned a 
boarding-house in Meccah. Every year he escorted 
pilgrims to Al-Madinah, although he was over sixty 
years old and very white-haired and decrepit. He 
travelled in great comfort in a home-made Shugduf 
well stocked with soft cushions, pickled limes and other 
luxuries. This was converted at night into a tent. 
He was most fidgety and precise about his belongings ; 



RICHARD BURTON 81 

everything had its right place, and nothing — not even 
a pomegranate seed — must be wasted. He was also 
very nervous and mumbled in his sleep half the night, 
and was furious if his travelling companion so much as 
stirred. On this trip he had been sharing his Shugduf 
with an ill-favoured Egyptian with whom he quarrelled 
incessantly. At last he kicked him out altogether, 
and then, fearing the consequences, came to beg 
Burton's protection and the occasional company of 
his servant. c This,' says Burton, ; was readily granted 
in pity for the old man, who became immensely grate- 
ful. He offered at once to take Shaykh Nur into his 
Shugduf. The Indian boy had already reduced to 
ruins the frail structure of his Shibriyah by lying upon 
it lengthways, whereas prudent travellers sit in it cross- 
legged and facing the cameL Moreover he had been 
laughed to scorn by the Badawin, who, seeing him 
pull up his dromedary to mount and dismount, had 
questioned his sex, and determined him to be a woman. 
• . . I could not rebuke them ; the poor fellow's 
timidity was a ridiculous contrast to the Badawi's 
style of mounting; a pull at the camel's head, the left 
foot placed on the neck, an agile spring, and a scramble 
into the saddle. Shaykh Nur, elated by the sight of 
old Ali's luxuries, promised himself some joyous hours ; 
but next morning he owned with a sigh that he had 
purchased splendour at the extravagant price of 
happiness — the senior's tongue never rested through- 
out the livelong night.' 

During the next day's march the Sumum blew hard, 
and as usual affected the travellers' tempers. Burton 
saw a Turk who could speak no Arabic quarrelling 
violently with an Arab who could speak no Turkish, 



82 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

The Turk had picked up a few dried sticks which he 
wished to carry on with him to make a fire to cook his 
next dinner. As fast as he put them on the camel's 
back the Arab driver threw them to the ground. 6 They 
screamed with rage, 5 says Burton, ' hustled each other, 
and at last the Turk dealt the Arab a heavy blow. I 
afterwards heard that the pilgrim was mortally wounded 
that night, his stomach being ripped open with a dagger. 
On inquiring what had become of him I was assured 
that he had been comfortably wrapped up in his shroud 
and placed in a half-dug grave. This is the general 
practice in the case of the poor and solitary, whom 
illness or accident incapacitates from proceeding. 5 

The caravan halted that night at a large village 
called Al-Sufayna. They found the Baghdad caravan 
already encamped here. Though only 2000 strong 
these North-eastern Arabians and Wahhabis were 
most pugnacious in their attitude to the new-comers, 
and clearly showed they meant to hold their own in 
every way. 

That evening Burton was introduced to a name- 
sake, Shaykh Abdullah of Meccah. He had left his 
Shugduf to his son and had ridden forward on a 
dromedary. Now having suddenly been taken ill he 
begged Burton for some medicine and a seat in his 
Shugduf until he could find his own again. The boy 
Mohammed was delighted to ride a camel for a change, 
and the two Abdullahs travelled in the Shugduf. 
Burton gave his new patient an opium pill and persuaded 
him to carry the heavy bag of dollars that he had 
fastened to his waist-belt in some more comfortable 
place. He found his new companion full of information 
and very ready to be agreeable and talk. 



RICHARD BURTON 83 

After leaving Al-Sufayna the caravan marched 
south-east and travelled all that day through a most 
desolate piece of country full of whirling sand columns, 
skeletons and echoes. A halt was sounded at 4.30. 
' Cook your bread and boil your coffee/ said the old 
camel-driver. ; The camels will rest awhile and the 
gun will sound at nightfall.' He was quite right. 
At 10.30, when the moon was still young, they started 
again, this time in a south-westerly direction. It was 
very dark. The camels ; tripped and stumbled, tossing 
their litters like cockboats in a short sea ; at times the 
Shugdufs were well-nigh torn off their backs.' Mas'ud 
and his son led their camels with lights over the worst 
places. c It was a strange, wild scene,' Burton tells 
us. ' The black basaltic field was dotted with the huge 
and doubtful forms of spongy-footed camels with silent 
tread, looming like phantoms in the midnight air ; the 
hot wind moaned, and whirled from the torches flakes 
and sheets of flame and fiery smoke, whilst ever and 
anon a swift -travelling Takht-rawan, drawn by mules, 
and surrounded by runners bearing gigantic mashals 
or cressets, threw a passing glow of red light upon the 
dark road and the dusky multitude.' 

Once a horseman untied the halter of Burton's 
dromedary to make room for a friend of his own. 
Burton drew his sword, but Shaykh Abdullah used such 
violent language that the intruder thought better of 
it and disappeared. 

As the days went on the Damascus camels got 
more and more worn out and could not travel at all 
except by night, when it was cool. Quarrels between 
the pilgrims and the Badawin became more frequent 
and violent. At last on September 9 they reached 



84 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

Al-Zaribah, the place where the travellers have to put 
on their pilgrim-dress. Burton and his friends had 
their heads shaved, their nails cut and their moustachios 
trimmed. They washed and perfumed themselves, 
and then each dressed himself in two pieces of new 
red and white striped cotton about 6 feet long by 
3J feet broad. These they wound round shoulders 
and waist, tucking in or knotting the ends. On their 
feet they wore sandals, and their heads were bare. 

When they were dressed and had prayed with their 
faces towards Meccah, Shaykh Abdullah gave the 
others some good advice. He told them to be good 
pilgrims and reminded them that they must not quarrel 
or kill any living thing — even a flea. The only excep- 
tions to this rule are the crow, the kite, the scorpion, 
the rat and a biting dog. These may be killed if 
necessary. They must not shave, cut or pull out a 
single hair, or pluck a single blade of grass, and 
they must not wear anything on their heads. They 
would have to sacrifice a sheep for each rule they 
broke. 

At 3 o'clock the crowds of white-robed pilgrims 
hurried forward again, and towards evening came to 
a narrow pass between high precipitous cliffs. The 
road was up the rocky bed of a dried-up stream. It 
was an ominous-looking place and all voices were hushed 
as they approached. Suddenly a curl of blue smoke 
was seen high up on the precipice, and a dromedary 
rolled over shot through the heart. At the same 
moment the report of the gun was heard. The caravan 
was thrown into complete confusion and no one seemed 
to have the least idea of what to do, until the fierce- 
looking Wahhabis came galloping up ; with their elf- 



RICHARD BURTON 85 

locks tossing in the wind, and their flaring matches 
casting a strange lurid light over their features. 5 Under 
the direction of Sharif Zayd, an Arab nobleman who 
had vowed some time previously that he would not 
leave the caravan until it was within sight of the walls 
of Meecah, the Wahhabis swarmed up the hills and put 
the robbers to flight. 

At the beginning of the skirmish Burton had got 
his pistols ready; but when he saw that there was 
nothing to be done, wishing to make an impression, he 
called loudly for his supper. Shaykh Nur was much 
too frightened to move. The boy Mohammed could 
only gasp, ' Oh, sir,' and the disgusted neighbours 
exclaimed, ; By Allah, he eats ! ' Shaykh Abdullah 
was the only one who showed any amusement. He 
called out to know if these were Afghan manners. 
6 Yes,' shouted Burton, c in my country we always dine 
before an attack by robbers, because that gentry is 
in the habit of sending men to bed supperless.' 

When the firing had died down the pilgrims hurried 
on as fast as they could, each trying to pass his neigh- 
bours. Many accidents resulted and boxes and baggage 
lay strewn upon the road. There was no path and the 
camels stumbled continually in the dark against rocks 
and trees and stony banks. Burton passed the night 
crying, ; Hai ! Hai ! ' to his camel and trying in vain 
to keep Mas'ud's greedy, lazy nephew from sleeping 
on the water-bags. 

At about 8 on the morning of the 10th the weary 
pilgrims halted at Wady Laymun, the Valley of Limes, 
and refreshed themselves under the trees with a 
breakfast of limes, pomegranates and fresh dates, and 
the sound of a bubbling stream. At noon Mas'ud 



86 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

hurried them on again through the gardens and villages 
and then up another steep rocky pass. At dusk they 
looked in vain for a sight of Meccah up the long winding 
valley. Not till 1 a.m. were there shouts of c Meccah ! 
Meccah ! The Sanctuary ! The Sanctuary ! ' Burton 
looking out of his litter saw the dim outlines of the city, 
but it was too dark to see more. 

At two o'clock they arrived at the door of the boy 
Mohammed's house. The Indian porter was sleepy 
and cross and had to be kicked and shaken before he 
could wake up enough to understand who they were 
and open the gates. Mohammed left Burton in the 
street while he rushed upstairs to find his mother, and 
their glad cries of greeting were heard a few minutes 
later. When the boy returned he had quite lost his 
jaunty manner and had become a grave and courteous 
host. He led Burton into the house and brought 
him an excellent dish of vermicelli before going to 
sleep. 

At dawn Burton, as a true pilgrim, had to be up 
and dressed and ready for the first visit to the Mosque. 
It is not difficult to sympathise with his feelings as he 
walked down the long flights of steps, crossed the cloister, 
and looked at last on the Bayt Allah, which so few 
Europeans had ever seen. His dream of years was 
fulfilled. He had accomplished his plan and the great 
square Ka'abah — the Holy House — covered with its 
black and gold pall, stood in front of him. He was as 
excited as any pilgrim there, not with the ecstasy of 
the true Moslem but with the pride of a well-deserved 
success won by great skill and courage, and by patient 
endurance of the many hardships and discomforts of 
the long journey. 



RICHARD BURTON 87 

6. Holy Week at Meccah 

The ceremonies of the Holy Week at Meccah had 
still to be gone through, and Burton had plenty of hard 
work in front of him. Before leaving the Mosque on 
the first morning he had to kiss the famous Black Stone 
at the eastern corner of the Ka'abah. It was besieged 
by Badawi and pilgrims, and not until the boy 
Mohammed had enlisted the help of a dozen strong 
Meccans could he and Burton get near it. They then 
kept it to themselves for ten minutes, and while kissing 
and rubbing his hands and forehead on it Burton was 
able to examine it thoroughly. Other prayers and 
rites followed, and the weary pilgrims did not get home 
till after 10 o'clock. 

In the evening they went there again with a prayer 
rug and a lantern. The oval marble pavement round 
the Ka'abah was thronged with men, women, and 
children performing their devotions in the moonlight. 
Burton stayed till 2 a.m., but the place was still crowded 
with pilgrims, many of whom were passing the night 
there before the journey next day to Mount Arafat. 
Parties of them ' sat upon their rugs with lanterns in 
front of them, conversing, praying, and contemplating 
the Ka'abah. The cloisters were full of merchants 
who resorted there to "talk shop," and to vend 
such holy goods as combs, tooth-sticks and rosaries. 
Shaykh Nur and the boy Mohammed presently fell 
asleep, and Burton went up to the Ka'abah meaning 
to tear off a piece of the Kiswet or curtain which by now 
was much worn and tattered. Too many people were 
about still, but with the help of a piece of tape and by 
pacing up and down the building, Burton was able 



88 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

to measure a great deal. Moslems generally try to 
procure a strip of the old curtain as a keepsake, and 
it can be bought from the officials of the temple, who 
make as much money as they can in this way. Waist- 
coats cut out of it render the wearer invulnerable in 
battle, and pieces are sent as gifts even to princes. 
The boy Mohammed gave Burton a piece to take away 
when he left Meccah. 

At dawn the next day Shaykh Ma'sud brought his 
camels to the door. He was impatient to start before 
the big caravans got under weigh, but the pilgrims did 
not actually mount until 10 o'clock. They were over- 
taken as they halted for the midday prayer by the 
Damascus Caravan. ' It was a grand spectacle, 5 writes 
Burton. ' The Mahmil (the Sultan's litter), no longer 
naked as upon the line of march, flashed in the sun all 
green and gold. Around the moving host of white- 
robed pilgrims hovered a crowd of Badawi, male and 
female, all mounted on swift dromedaries, and many 
of them armed to the teeth.' They hoped to catch 
some enemy unprepared at Arafat and to murder him 
without further trouble. 

Mas'ud's party arrived at the Holy Hill about 3 in 
the afternoon. Men and camels were both worn out, 
and Burton saw several pilgrims fall down dead by the 
roadside. The boy Mohammed was tired of travelling 
as companion to a Darwaysh, and was determined to 
be grand for once. He spread handsome Persian rugs 
before the tent and a silk-cushioned diwan within. 
Coffee was prepared and everything arranged as comfort- 
ably and smartly as possible, and he insisted on Burton 
wearing a handsome red cashmere shawl of his own. 

Arafat, according to the Arabian legend, is the hill 



RICHARD BURTON 89 

where Eve was thrown down when she and Adam 
forfeited Heaven by eating wheat. Here she remained 
until found at last by Adam, who had landed at Ceylon, 
and had walked all over the earth looking for her. The 
huge pilgrim camp was a confusion of sights and sounds 
and smells. This camp of townsfolk was a great con- 
trast to the cleanliness of a Badawin camp. c Poor 
Mas'ud,' says Burton, e sat holding his nose in ineffable 
disgust, for which he was derided by the Meccans. I 
consoled him with quoting the celebrated song of May- 
sunah, the beautiful Badawi wife of the Caliph 
Mu'awiyah. 

' O take these purple robes away, 

Give back my cloak of camel's hair, 
And bear me from this tow'ring pile 

To where the Black Tents flap i' the air. 
The camel's colt with falt'ring tread, 

The dog that bays at all but me, 
Delights me more than ambling mules — 

Than every art of minstrelsy ; 
And any cousin, poor but free, 

Might take me, fatted ass ! from thee.' 

Maysunah was overheard by her husband — the 
c fatted ass ' — singing this song, and he promptly sent 
her back to her beloved wilds. 

The Badawi shout with joy when they hear it, and 
old Mas'ud clapped Burton on the shoulder, saying, 
6 Verily, O Father of Moustachios, I will show thee the 
black tents of my tribe this year.' 

Sleep was made impossible that night by an old 
gentleman in a neighbouring tent who muttered his 



90 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

prayers aloud without a pause until dawn, when the 
cannon warned everyone to get up and prepare for 
the ceremonies of the day. The final and most im- 
portant of these was the three hours' sermon which 
lasted till near sunset. Then the 4 Israf ' or permis- 
sion to depart was given and the ' Hurry from Arafat ' 
began. 

Burton's old acquaintance, Ali bin Ya Sin, had 
turned up again earlier in the day, and he now insisted 
on climbing into Burton's Shugduf for the return 
journey. Burton was disgusted, for he wanted to 
sketch the Holy Hill as he rode away. An idea came 
to him. He began to toss about in the Shugduf till 
it rocked. c Effendi ! ' said old Ali, ; sit quiet ; there 
is danger here.' Burton continued to toss about as 
if he had either a very bad conscience or an appalling 
stomach ache. ' Effendi,' shrieked the old man, ' what 
art thou doing ? Thou wilt be the death of us.' 
6 Wallah ! ' answered Burton, rolling over again, ' it is 
all thy fault ! There ! ' (another plunge) 4 put thy 
beard out of the other opening, and Allah will make 
it easy to us.' The old man was so terrified that he 
did as he was told, and Burton had time to make a 
hurried sketch from the opening at the back. 

They slept that night at Muna, and after throwing 
their seven stones apiece at the ' Great Devil ' (a pillar 
near the village), returned to Meccah. Soon after their 
return the boy Mohammed rushed in in great excite- 
ment and told Burton to hurry up and dress, for the 
Ka'abah was open and the crowd had not yet arrived. 
The Ka'abah was decked in its new covering, which 
is brought each year by the caravan, and an official 
stood at the door holding a huge silver-gilt padlock. 



RICHARD BURTON 91 

After asking various questions as to Burton's name 
and nationality, he let him enter. He describes his 
feelings inside that windowless building with the 
officials at the door and the excited crowd outside as 
those of a rat in a trap. Had he been suspected in 
that place of being a Christian nothing could have 
saved him from the knives of the enraged fanatics. 
However, he made many observations and a rough 
plan in pencil on his white garment while reciting his 
lengthy prayers. He returned home at last, safe but 
much exhausted, and at once washed himself in henna 
and warm water to ease the pain of the sun-scalds on 
his exposed arms and chest. 

On September 19, when the Umrah or Little 
Pilgrimage was over, the boy Mohammed took Burton 
round the town sight-seeing. Mounted on donkeys 
they made various Holy Visitations and ended up with 
a grand dinner with old Ali bin Ya Sin, and other 
worldly pleasures which everyone was now allowed to 
enjoy again. 

Burton had decided to return at once to Cairo and 
from there to try again to reach the interior of the 
country. He hired two camels and sent Shaykh Nur 
on ahead with the luggage. He and the boy Mohammed, 
who was to accompany him as far as Jeddah on the 
coast, were to follow on donkeys. Omar Effendi 
meant to slip away from Meccah and join them as 
soon as his father had started back to Al-Madinah in 
command of the Dromedary Caravan. 

The journey to the coast was comparatively easy. 
Coffee-houses abounded, and a halt was called for re- 
freshments every five miles. At Al-Haddah, about 
eight leagues from Jeddah, the boy Mohammed slept 



92 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

so soundly that he could hardly be roused at the end 

of the half hour's halt. At the next coffee-house, an 

hour later, he threw himself on the ground and said it 

was impossible to go on. The donkey-boy became very 

impudent and threatened to go away with the rest of 

the party and leave Burton and his companion to their 

fate. Burton promptly knocked him over and he 

retired discomforted. One of the party, an Egyptian, 

then exclaimed briskly : ' Yallah ! Rise and mount ; 

thou art only losing our time ; thou dost not intend 

to sleep in the Desert.' To which Burton replied : 

c O my Uncle, do not exceed in talk,' which amounted 

to saying c Don't be impertinent.' He then rolled over 

and pretended to snore. Mohammed, who had been 

roused by the dispute, now settled the matter. 6 Do 

you know,' he whispered in awful tones, pointing to 

Burton, 6 what that person is ? ' ' Why, no,' said the 

others. ' Well,' said the youth, c the other day the 

Utaybah showed us death in the Zaribah Pass, and what 

do you think he did ? ' ' Wallah ! what do we know ? ' 

said the Egyptian. 'What did he do ? ' ' He called 

for — his dinner ! ' said the youth with great emphasis 

and sarcasm. After this he and Burton were left to 

sleep in peace. 

On reaching Jeddah Burton found he had no money 
left to pay his donkey boy, and that he must cash a 
draft given him by the Royal Geographical Society. 
Mr. Cole the Vice-Consul, on whom he called several 
times, was said to be suffering from a fever and unable 
to see anyone. At last Burton got a note sent up to 
him, and when he introduced himself, after admission 
to Mr. Cole's room, as an English officer, he was most 
hospitably welcomed. 



RICHARD BURTON 93 

One morning, soon after, Omar Effendi arrived very 
tired and dragging a still more weary donkey behind 
him. He was given a pipe and a cup of tea and then 
hidden in a dark hole full of grass where he could sleep 
in safety, should his father pursue him, as he feared he 
would. 

He was quite right. The next morning his father 
appeared, and ' having ascertained,' says Burton, 
' from the porter that the fugitive was in the house, 
politely called upon me. Whilst he plied all manner 
of questions, his black slave furtively stared at every- 
thing in and about the room. But we had found time 
to cover the runaway with grass and the old gentleman 
departed, after a fruitless search. There was, however, 
a grim smile about his mouth which boded no good. 
That evening, returning home from the Hammam, I 
found the house in an uproar. The boy Mohammed, 
who had been miserably mauled, was furious with rage ; 
and Shaykh Nur was equally unmanageable by reason 
of his fear. 5 During Burton's absence the father had 
returned with several friends and relations and insisted 
on searching the house and all the boxes, in spite of 
Mohammed's indignant protests. The youth got some 
hard blows in his attempts to prevent the search, and 
meanwhile a small boy spied Omar Effendi's leg in the 
hole. The truant was dragged out and carried off. 
Burton, to console Mohammed, offered to go and rescue 
Omar by main force, but the youth declined, for this 
would have meant a proper skirmish with staves and 
harder blows still. 

When the day came on which the steamer was to 
leave for Cairo, Burton was puzzled at Mohammed's 
great coolness at parting. Shaykh Nur explained it 



94 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

a few days later. He said that when Mohammed had 
gone on board to say good-bye a strong suspicion 
of the truth had once more crossed the boy's mind. 
c Now I understand/ he said to Shaykh Nur. ' Your 
master is a Sahib from India ; he hath laughed at 
our beards.' 



III. DAVID LIVINGSTONE 

1. The Youth of an Apostle 

David Livingstone, like John Franklin, may be 
described as a born traveller ; he had in a high degree 
the qualities which are most necessary for living in 
the wilds, mingling with strange or primitive races, 
and coping with every kind of hardship and difficulty. 
But he differed in one respect from all the other 
characters in this book : travelling was never his object 
in life. His impulse came not from the love of wander- 
ing, or of exploring, or of any of the natural sciences, 
but from an ardent desire to convert the heathen to 
civilisation and especially to the religion of Christianity. 
Everything else was for him only a means to this end ; 
and all his long and adventurous journeys, all his 
geographical and scientific discoveries, were merely 
the wayside experiences and chance encounters of a 
life devoted to this more urgent and absorbing business. 
By birth he was a Scotsman and a Highlander ; 
his family came from Ulva, the Isle of Wolves, one 
of that romantically beautiful group of islands which 
lies out to the westward of Mull like a flock of clouds 
in the sunset. David was the son of Niel, whose grand- 
father fell in the battle of Culloden, fighting for Prince 
Charlie, and whose father left Ulva and went to live 
at Blantyre, near Glasgow. Niel was himself a man 
of character, and a leader among his neighbours. He 

95 



96 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

was from his youth a great reader, especially of religious 
books, and he learned Gaelic in order to read the Bible 
to his mother, who knew that language better than 
English. He belonged to a Missionary Society, and 
was so keen a member of it that he was said to have 
6 the very soul of a missionary. 5 It is clear that a 
good deal of his character was inherited by his second 
son, David, who was destined to display it in a far 
wider sphere. 

David was born in 1813, and at the age of ten was 
sent to work in a factory, first as a c piecer,' after- 
wards as a spinner. With part of his first week's 
wages he bought a book on the rudiments of Latin, 
and by attending an evening class he got far enough 
to be reading Virgil and Horace at sixteen. He also 
devoured all books that came his way, except novels, 
which were then considered irreligious. Besides, he 
could hardly have followed a story satisfactorily, for 
his plan was t place the book on the spinning- jenny 
and read in snatches as he passed to and fro at his 
work. 

When he was in his twentieth year he began to 
think seriously about religion, and chanced to read 
Dick's ' Philosophy of a Future State.' A year later 
he read an appeal to the Churches on behalf of China, 
and felt inspired to go out to that country as a mission- 
ary. He applied accordingly to the London Missionary 
Society ; but the c Opium War ' was then going on, 
and from this and other causes it was not found possible 
to send him out at once. While waiting he studied 
medicine in London, and made the acquaintance of 
Professor Owen and other scientific men. Finally he 
was ordained in November 1840, and was then sent 



DAVID LIVINGSTONE 97 

out to Africa to work in the Kuruman Mission in 
Bechuanaland. After two years he was authorised 
to form a new station ; and during the next six years 
he actually founded the three stations of Mabotsa, 
Chonuane, and Kolobeng. He also married — his wife 
was Mary, the daughter of Dr. Moffat, the well-known 
missionary — and made some real friendships among 
the native chiefs. 

In July 1849, while going north to visit a famous 
chief, Sebituane, he skirted the great Kalahari desert, 
and discovered the beautiful river Zouga ; then on 
August 1 he came to the head of Lake 'Ngami. This 
lake had never before been seen by any European, 
and both Sir James Alexander before him, and Francis 
Galton a year afterwards, failed to reach it. Exactly 
two years later Livingstone succeeded at last in visiting 
Sebituane, and pushed on as far as the town of Linyanti, 
beyond which on August 3, 1851, he discovered the 
Upper Zambesi river. These journeys were appreciated 
and rewarded by the Royal Geographical Society, but 
his success exposed him to serious criticism in other 
quarters — he was said to be ' sinking the missionary 
in the explorer. 5 This was an untrue charge ; explora- 
tion was necessary in order to meet two great 
difficulties which hindered civilisation in the Africa 
of that day. One was the closing of certain territories 
by the Boers, who were then a wandering people ; 
the other was the rapid development of the slave trade 
among the native tribes. Livingstone was determined 
to combat both these influences ; the Boers he fore- 
saw would eventually find our civilisation too powerful 
for them — the time would come when they would no 
longer be able to kill black men at will, on the plea that 

H 



98 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

they had no souls. About the cruelty of the natives 
to each other he felt more impatient, and he wrote 
home almost fiercely. ' The more intimately I become 
acquainted with barbarians the more disgusting does 
heathenism appear. It is inconceivably vile. . . . 
They never visit anywhere but for the purpose of 
plunder and oppression. They never go anywhere 
but with a club or spear in hand.' He was sickened 
and haunted by the sight of lines of slaves marching 
chained together, and of children being snatched from 
their mother's side to be sent to a distant market. 
Even the friendly chief Sekeletu suddenly one day in 
Livingstone's own presence ordered two traitors to 
be executed ; they were hewn in pieces with axes 
before his eyes, and then thrown to the crocodiles. 

Livingstone felt strongly that a forward policy was 
needed here ; the only way to put an end to such 
horrors was to let daylight into the interior of Africa. 
He resolved to make a beginning by forcing his way 
through from Linyanti to Loanda ; it might cost him 
his life, but he had ' fully made up his mind as to the 
path of duty.' To his brother-in-law, Robert Moffat, 
he wrote : ' I shall open up a path into the interior, 
or perish.' 

2. From Linyanti to Loanda 

Linyanti lies in latitude 18.9 S. and to the north- 
east of Lake 'Ngami ; Loanda is on the west coast in 
the Portuguese territory south of the Congo. The 
distance between the two is well over 1000 miles as 
the crow flies ; by Livingstone's route it is nearer 
1500, and had never before been traversed by any 
European. The journey took over six months, from 



DAVID LIVINGSTONE 99 

November 11, 1853, to May 81, 1854, and was not 
only the most original but the most difficult and 
dangerous that he had yet attempted. The course of 
it was first up the Barotse valley, by which the Zambesi 
comes curving down from the north ; this he navigated 
with a flotilla of thirty canoes, and then went on up 
its tributary the Leeba, which joins it from the north- 
west. When the upper waters of the Leeba were 
reached, the canoes were abandoned and Livingstone 
mounted his ox for the march across the high ground 
to the N.N.W., finally turning due west and working 
down to Loanda, which lies on the sea level more 
than 3000 feet below. 

In this long journey the points in the leader's 
favour were few, those against him many. The hundred 
and sixty c Makalolo ' or Barotse men who went with 
him were faithful and patient — ' the best/ he says, 
' that ever accompanied me ' ; but on the other hand 
they were very tame savages and easily cowed by the 
more ferocious ones they encountered. The scenery 
was for a great part of the way beautiful : the rich 
valleys reminded him of his native Vale of Clyde and 
other Scottish landscapes. But in the lower country 
he suffered from almost incessant attacks of fever, and 
in the latter stages of the journey from dysentery. 
Food was often scarce, and never suitable for a fever- 
stricken man. Worse still was the lack of proper 
drugs — the greater part of his supply of medicines 
was stolen at the start, and it was, of course, impossible 
to replace them. The disastrous effect of this loss 
cannot be over-estimated, for the leader was often 
desperately weak and depressed in body and mind at 
the very moment when the greatest courage and energy 



100 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

were demanded of him. Once, when he was shaking 
with fever, his riding-ox threw him and he fell heavily 
on to his head ; another time, when he was crossing 
a river, the ox tossed him into the water ; heavy rains 
drenched him continually, and there were always 
streams to be waded, sometimes three or four in one 
day. Then when he was feeling least able to deal 
with an enemy or take a decision some hostile chief 
would bar the way, exacting an exorbitant price for 
permission to travel across his little territory ; and 
Livingstone must stand and argue with him, buying 
him off in the end with guns or oxen, which he could 
very ill spare, and hard put to it to save even his men, 
who were demanded of him for slaves. There is no 
need to enlarge on hardships like these, or to say any- 
thing of the courage and resoluteness of the man who 
could bear the whole burden of them alone, and carry 
his timid and ignorant followers through with him to 
the very end. 

The journey began with a very cheering success ; 
the expedition met a trader with eighteen captured 
men, destined to slavery, and Livingstone boldly 
summoned him to set them free. It must have been 
quite evident that he had no intention of using any 
but moral force, but the man gave way and the eighteen 
prisoners were released. It is very remarkable to 
hear how the influence of this single white man, with- 
out arms or official backing, often prevailed over the 
feelings of the savage chiefs, so that they not only 
let him pass unmolested, but supplied him with 
provisions. Some, on the other hand, blackmailed him 
ruthlessly. One day, after leaving the Zambesi, the 
expedition was in straits for food, and a riding-ox had 




jfaftlfelAftvii^ 



This he navigated with a flotilla of canoes.' 



102 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

to be killed. In accordance with custom, a share was 
sent to the local chief, but instead of being at all mollified 
by this, the chief sent an impudent message next day 
demanding much more valuable presents. His people 
crowded round Livingstone, threatening him with 
their weapons, and the end seemed to have come ; 
but Livingstone's nerve held good, and he smiled and 
talked them into reason. 

Some days after this, the same kind of agony was 
experienced again, but it was more prolonged, and 
Livingstone suffered more, for he was ill of fever at 
the time. The expedition was passing through a tract 
of forest and expected to be attacked at any moment. 
When they came near to the chief's village Livingstone 
went fearlessly in, and spoke to the chief in person ; 
the palaver seemed to be successful, and welcome 
presents were sent to the travellers' camp — yams, a 
goat, fowls, and other meat. Livingstone returned 
the compliment with a shawl and some bunches of 
beads, and thought that all was going well. In the 
excitement of the interview he even threw off his 
fever, or at any rate forgot it, but of course he paid 
for this afterwards with a great sense of sinking and 
' perfect uselessness,' the more depressing to him 
because the day was Sunday, and he was unequal to 
the usual service. On Monday, when he was at the 
lowest ebb, the chief turned round upon him and 
made fresh demands. It was, says Livingstone, 6 a 
day of torture. . . . After talking nearly the whole 
day we gave the old chief an ox, but he would not 
take it, but another. I was grieved exceedingly to 
find that our people had become quite disheartened, 
and all resolved to return home. All I can say has 




{ His people crowded round Livingstone, threatening him with 
their weapons.' 



104 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

no effect. I can only look up to God to influence their 
minds, that the enterprise fail not now that we have 
reached the very threshold of the Portuguese settle- 
ments. I am greatly distressed at this change, for 
what else can be done for this miserable land I do not 
see.' This, however, was only a groan to himself 
in his Journal ; outwardly he was still confident and 
tactful. By Wednesday morning he had persuaded 
both the old chief and his own men, and was on his 
way again. 

The next two encounters were still more trying 
ones, for as the end of the march drew near, the stock 
of articles available for presents or blackmail was 
almost entirely exhausted. On the next Sunday but 
one after the crisis just recorded, another chief demanded 
tribute, and Livingstone having hardly anything left 
to bargain with fell back upon simple passive resistance. 
He told the chief that he might kill him if he chose, 
and God would judge between them. On Monday the 
chief gave way ; for in that country the natives believed 
in a Supreme Being and in the continued existence 
of the soul after death, though in a fashion of their 
own they imagined the dead man's spirit to be re- 
incarnated in an alligator, a hippopotamus, or a lion. 
This belief was the cause of one of the few amusing 
incidents in a very trying journey. Livingstone had 
provided himself with a magic lantern, and used it 
during his sermons, to show pictures of Abraham 
offering up Isaac, and other Biblical scenes. He 
found this a very popular method, but the congregation 
refused to stand on one side of the camera — the side 
on which the slides were drawn out, and to which 
therefore the pictures seemed to move and disappear. 



DAVID LIVINGSTONE 105 

They were terrified lest the figures, as they passed 
along, should enter into their bodies and take possession 
of them. 

The last blackmailing crisis came on the following 
day — Tuesday. The expedition had reached the river 
Kwango, in Portuguese territory, when it was once 
more stopped, and in his eagerness to get through this 
last obstacle Livingstone was ready to give up every- 
thing he had left — his razors and shirts had gone and 
even the copper ornaments of his faithful Makololo, 
and he had made up his mind, he says, to part with 
his blanket and coat, to buy a passage through. At 
the last moment a young Portuguese sergeant, named 
Cypriano de Abrao, suddenly made his appearance, 
and the difficulty was instantly at an end. 

The outlying Portuguese stations were now at hand, 
and Livingstone was everywhere received with great 
kindness ; his wants were generously supplied, one 
Portuguese gentleman giving him a new suit of clothes 
and another the first wine he had ever tasted in Africa. 
The traders all assured him that they hated the slave 
trade, and even when he afterwards discovered that 
this profession of theirs did not exactly tally with the 
facts, he never ceased to be grateful for their genuine 
kindness to himself. It was only in his Journal that 
he allowed himself to express his doubts by marginal 
notes of interrogation. 

He reached St. Paul de Loanda, the end of his 
journey, on May 81, 1854, with the twenty-seven men 
who had accompanied him after the canoes were sent 
back. He was there laid low almost immediately by 
a long and distressing attack of fever and dysentery, 
and he had to endure the great disappointment of 



106 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

finding not a single letter waiting for him. He was 
himself a great letter writer, and would in any case 
have felt this a privation ; but now it was also a cause 
of real anxiety, for it seemed clear that all his friends 
and even his own family must have given him up for 
lost. In this trying time he was most kindly cared 
for by Mr. Edmund Gabriel, the British Commissioner 
for the suppression of the slave trade, who was naturally 
in full sympathy with his views on the welfare of 
Africa. 

jDnder Mr. Gabriel's care he gradually recovered 
his strength, and on September 24 he started on his 
return journey. This time his preparations were 
better made, and the difficulties were far less formid- 
able ; but owing to sickness and delays the distance 
took nearly twice as long to cover. He reached Linyanti 
on September 11, 1855, stayed there till November 3, 
and then fulfilled his amazing enterprise by travelling 
the whole way across to the east coast, discovering the 
Victoria Falls of the Zambesi on his route. He reached 
Quilimane in Portuguese East Africa on May 20, 1856, 
having this time traversed the continent from sea 
to sea. 

He then started home, and arrived in England on 
December 9, 1856, after an absence of more than 
sixteen years. His reception was a great one. The 
Royal Geographical Society had already in May 1855 
voted him their Gold Medal, and his volume of Mission- 
ary Travels was now acclaimed by every one : travel- 
lers, geographers, zoologists, astronomers, missionaries, 
physicians, and mercantile directors all admired in him 
a man who had gained for them at first hand know- 
ledge for which they might otherwise have waited long, 



DAVID LIVINGSTONE 107 

and no one who loves courage and endurance could 
fail to be interested in a story so adventurous. Here 
and there some pious people regretted once more his 
exploring activity ; but Livingstone only said, ' My 
views of what is missionary duty are not so contracted 
as those whose ideal is a dumpy sort of man with a 
Bible under his arm.' 

3. Fighting the Slave Traders 

In February 1858 Dr. Livingstone was formally 
recognised as a public servant of the first importance 
in a line of his own ; he was appointed British Consul 
at Quilimane for the eastern coast and the independent 
districts in the interior, and commander of an expedition 
for exploring Eastern and Central Africa. He sailed 
accordingly from Liverpool on March 10, taking with 
him his wife, and the sections of a steam launch named 
with her African name, the Ma-Robert, and intended 
for the navigation of the Zambesi. Mrs. Livingstone 
was ill, and had to be put ashore at Capetown. Her 
husband reached the mouth of the Zambesi on May 14 
and fitted the Ma-Robert together on May 16, in spite 
of the day being a Sunday ; for the work had to be 
done in a mango swamp, and the risk of fever was one 
which he had only too much reason to dread. 

The task now before him can best be understood 
by a glance at the map. If a line is drawn from Loanda 
to Quilimane — the line of Livingstone's last journey — 
it will have to the south of it all that was then known 
of the interior of Africa South and Central, namely 
Cape Colony, Bechuanaland, the Transvaal, the two 
Portuguese territories on the west and east coasts, 
the two territories now named Northern and Southern 



108 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

Rhodesia, and the territory for some years known as 
German South- West Africa. These were still largely 
barbarous and unsettled lands, but they had at any 
rate been opened up and their geography was fairly 
well ascertained. But to the north of Livingstone's 
line lay vast regions still quite unexplored : to the 
north-west the dense forests of the Congo ; to the north- 
east a legendary land of great lakes, among which it 
was believed that the sources of the Nile might one 
day be found. 

This latter region had already attracted British 
travellers. While Livingstone was in England the 
Royal Geographical Society had marked as a born 
explorer Captain Richard Burton, who had already 
made three expeditions to Arabia and Somaliland, 
of the first of which some account has been given 
in a previous chapter ; and at their suggestion Captain 
Burton and Lieutenant Speke were sent out by the 
Foreign Office to survey the unknown Lake district of 
Equatorial Africa. They entered from the east coast 
and were successful in their attempt ; they were the 
first Europeans to see Lake Tanganyika, which they 
reached in February 1858. Burton then fell ill, but 
by July he had roughly mapped out the country from 
Arab information, and during his disablement Speke 
went further north and found the Ukerewe Lake, or 
Victoria Nyanza, exactly where Burton had placed it 
on his map. 

This part then of the work of opening up Central 
Africa was already done, but between Tanganyika 
and Portuguese East Africa there still lay a large 
tract unexplored — the territory now called North- 
Eastern Rhodesia. It is a queerly shaped piece of 



DAVID LIVINGSTONE 109 

country with a long tongue projecting down into the 
very middle of the Portuguese territory and extending 
to within 100 miles of the coast. Down this tongue 
the Shire river runs to join the Zambesi, and after some 
delay Livingstone determined to use the Shire as his 
highway to the north. The Ma-Robert turned out a 
great failure: her consumption of fuel was enormous, 
she snorted so horribly that she was called ■ The 
Asthmatic,' and she went so slowly that canoes could 
easily pass her. Still she made in 1859 three trips 
up the Shire, where no white man had ever been seen 
before. The natives were war-like and suspicious ; 
crowds of them followed the little steamer and kept 
watch over it day and night, ready with bows and 
poisoned arrows. Nevertheless Livingstone succeeded 
in establishing friendly relations with them. 

On the second journey he made a detour to the east 
and discovered ' a magnificent inland lake ' named 
Lake Shirwa, which was absolutely unknown to the 
Portuguese. It was close to their nominal boundary, 
but the natives had never allowed them to enter the 
Shire country. • The lake, 5 Livingstone wrote to his 
daughter Agnes, ' was very grand, for we could not 
see the end of it, though some way up a mountain ; 
and all around it are mountains much higher than 
any you see in Scotland. One mountain stands in the 
lake, and people live on it. Another, called Zomba, 
is more than 6000 feet high, and people live on it too, 
for we could see their gardens on its top, which is 
larger than from Glasgow to Hamilton, or about 15 
to 18 miles. . . . No one was impudent to us except 
some slave traders ; but they became civil as soon 
as they learned we were English and not Portuguese. 



110 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

We saw the sticks they employ for training anyone 
whom they have just bought. One is about 8 feet 
long : the head, or neck rather, is put into the space 
(at the forked end) and another slave carries the butt 
end. When they are considered tame they are allowed 
to go in chains. I am working in the hope that in the 
course of time this horrid system may cease. 5 

On the third journey, in August, he discovered 
Lake Nyassa, an immensely greater lake further to 
the north. The importance of the African lakes, and 
especially of Shirwa and Nyassa, lies in their position, 
parallel to the sea-coast. They form a long barrier 
through which traffic from the interior to the coast 
can only pass by certain gaps, of which one is the Shire 
highlands ; and though it is a roundabout route, 
this was in fact the great highway for conveying slaves 
from the north and north-west to Zanzibar. Living- 
stone made plans for the establishment of a British 
colony in this country, to be a centre of civilisation 
and block the slave-route. 

After this nearly two years were spent in starting 
the Universities Mission ; then at the end of April 
1862 Mrs. Livingstone died at Shupanga after a few 
days' illness. As soon as he could rally from this 
heavy blow Dr. Livingstone put together a new steamer, 
the Lady Nyassa, and began to explore the Rovuma 
river which runs from near the east side of Lake Nyassa 
to the sea at Cape Delgado. He was spurred on to 
almost desperate energy by the fact that his discoveries 
had actually stimulated the activity of the slave- 
hunters and slave-traders, under the protection of 
the Portuguese local authorities. This was ' opening 
up the country ' in a disastrous sense, and a struggle 



DAVID LIVINGSTONE 111 

began between Livingstone and the traders which ended 
for the time in his defeat. The desolation caused by 
Mar anno, the Portuguese slave-agent, was heart- 
breaking. Livingstone's boat steamed through the 
floating bodies of runaway slaves ; in the morning 
the paddles had to be cleared of corpses caught by the 
floats during the night. When he landed he found 
even more terrible sights. ' Wherever we took a 
walk, human skeletons were seen in every direction. . . . 
A whole heap had been thrown down a slope behind 
a village, where the fugitives often crossed the river 
from the east, and in one hut of the same village no 
fewer than twenty drums had been collected, probably 
the ferryman's fees. Many had ended their misery 
under shady trees, others under projecting crags in 
the hills, while others lay in the huts with closed doors, 
which when opened disclosed the mouldering corpse 
with the poor rags round the loins, the skull fallen off 
the pillow, the little skeleton of the child, that had 
perished first, rolled up in a mat between two large 
skeletons. The sight of this desert, but eighteen 
months ago a well-peopled valley, now literally strewn 
with human bones, forced the conviction upon us 
that the destruction of human life in the Middle Passage 
(at sea), however great, constitutes but a small portion 
of the waste, and made us feel that unless the slave 
trade — that monster iniquity which has so long brooded 
over Africa — is put down, lawful commerce cannot 
be established.' 

This was a moderate statement and a common- 
sense view, but it was not likely to commend itself to 
Marianno, or the local authorities who supported him, 
or to the Portuguese Government at home, who were 



112 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

restive at being remonstrated with by the British 
Government and wished to keep the rivers shut against 
Dr. Livingstone and his like. In July 1863 a despatch 
arrived from Earl Russell, intimating to Livingstone 
that he and his expedition were recalled. The reasons 
given by Earl Russell were Treasury reasons. The 
expedition, he said, though not through any fault of 
Dr. Livingstone's, had failed to accomplish the objects 
for which it had been designed, and had proved much 
more costly than was originally expected. The reasons 
not given, but probably felt quite as strongly, were 
Foreign Office reasons : relations with the Portuguese 
Government were becoming too uncomfortable ; Dr. 
Livingstone's uncompromising and unconventional 
methods were perhaps inconsistent with the rights of 
a friendly Power. This possibility had been pointed 
out from the beginning by the Prince Consort, who 
had on this very ground refused to be Patron of the 
Universities Mission ; and Livingstone received his 
recall with calmness, so far as his own Government 
was concerned. But towards the Portuguese he felt 
very differently ; on them lay a grave responsibility 
for stopping the work which would have conferred 
untold blessings on Africa. The ending of the Uni- 
versities Mission and all its hopes brought Livingstone 
to the hardest and most depressing moment of his 
career. He resolved to go home for a few months, and 
then to look for a new route to the interior of Africa, 
beyond the reach of Marianno and his supporters. 

4. Lost to the World 

Livingstone went to England by way of Zanzibar 
and Bombay, making a stay of only a few days in 



DAVID LIVINGSTONE 118 

India, and reaching London in July 1864. He spent 
a full year in England, and left again in August 1865 
to make his third and last great African journey. His 
object, as stated by himself, was as follows : c Our 
Government have supported the proposal of the Royal 
Geographical Society and have united with that body 
to aid me in another attempt to open Africa to civil- 
ising influences. I propose to go inland, north of the 
territory which the Portuguese in Europe claim, and 
endeavour to commence that system on the east which 
has been so successful on the west coast — combining 
the repressive efforts of Her Majesty's cruisers with 
lawful trade and Christian Missions. I hope to ascend 
the Rovuma, or some other river north of Cape Del- 
gado, and in addition to my other work, shall strive 
by passing along the northern end of Lake Nyassa 
and round the southern end of Lake Tanganyika, to 
ascend the watershed of that part of Africa.' The first 
part of this scheme was his own, the second he had 
been urged to undertake by the Royal Geographical 
Society. He was once more given the honorary posi- 
tion of Consul, but the funds provided were utterly 
inadequate. 

His outward journey was again by Bombay and 
Zanzibar, and on March 19, 1866, he left Zanzibar in 
H.M.S. Penguin for the mouth of the Rovuma. His 
company consisted of thirteen Sepoys, ten Johanna 
men, nine Nassick boys, two Shupanga men, and two 
Waiyau. Musa, one of the Johanna men, had been 
a sailor in the Lady Nyassa; Susi and Amoda, the 
Shupanga men, had been wood- cutters for another 
boat, the Pioneer ; and the two Waiyau lads, Wikatani 
and Chuma, had been slaves, rescued in 1861 by Living- 



114 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

stone and kept at the mission station. Besides these 
there were six camels, three buffaloes and a calf, two 
mules and four donkeys ; these were all brought from 
India as an experiment, to see if they could resist the 
bite of the tsetse-fly, and so solve one of the problems 
of Africa. 

Livingstone had not one white companion with 
him on this long and formidable journey into the 
unknown, but he started in good spirits. He gives 
two reasons for this, and they almost sum up the 
man. ' The mere animal pleasure of travelling in a 
wild unexplored country is very great. . . . The sweat 
of one's brow is no longer a curse when one works for 
God : it proves a tonic to the system, and is actually 
a blessing.' 

But in a very short time troubles began which cost 
him something more than the sweat of his brow. He 
reached Nyassa on August 8, bathed in the lake, and 
felt quite exhilarated. By the 28th he was writing 
to his son Thomas : ' The Sepoys were morally unfit 
for travel, and then we had hard lines, all of us. Food 
was not to be had for love or money. Our finest cloths 
only brought miserable morsels of common grain. I 
trudged it the whole way, and having no animal food 
save what turtle-doves and guinea-fowls we occasionally 
shot, I became like one of Pharaoh's lean kine.' Most 
of the Sepoys had to be sent back to the coast : they 
and the Nassick boys treated the transport animals 
abominably. The Johanna men were always stealing. 
The horrible traces of the slave trade were seen in every 
direction : women were found dead, tied to trees, or 
lying in the path shot and stabbed, merely for being 
unable to keep up with the march of the slave gang ; 



DAVID LIVINGSTONE 115 

men were found dying with the slave sticks still on 
their necks. 

As a climax to all this came the strike of the Johanna 
men, Musa, one of the chief of them, was spoken to 
at Marenga's village in September by an Arab slaver, 
who told him that the country ahead was full of men 
of the warlike tribe of the Mazitu ; that they had 
recently killed forty-four Arabs and their followers 
at Kasunga, and he alone had escaped. At this Musa 
was panic- struck ; both Marenga and Livingstone 
assured him that the expedition was not going any- 
where near the Mazitu, but he and all the other Johanna 
men were determined to go back to Zanzibar, and they 
went. Their action had extraordinary consequences. 
In order to get their pay at Zanzibar, when they arrived 
there in December, they had to give a plausible reason 
for coming back ; obviously the most suitable story 
was that their leader was no longer alive. Musa 
therefore stated positively that Livingstone had been 
murdered ; that he had crossed Lake Nyassa to its 
western or north-western shore and was pushing on, 
when beyond the villages of Matarka, Maponda, 
Marenga and Maksowa, a band of savages stopped the 
way and rushed upon the party. Livingstone, he said, 
fired twice and killed two ; but while he was reloading 
three men rushed upon him through the smoke, one 
of whom felled him with an axe stroke from behind, 
which nearly severed his head from his body. The 
Johanna men fled into the jungle, but afterwards 
returned, found their master's body, and buried it 
in a shallow grave dug with stakes. 

Dr. Seward and Dr. Kirk of Zanzibar cross-examined 
Musa upon this story, but in the end they were con- 



116 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

vinced, and sent a statement home ; then, as a fast 
American ship happened to be sailing for Aden, Dr. 
Kirk wrote the following note to Mr. Bates, the acting 
Secretary of the Royal Geographical Society, and it 
arrived before the despatches which had already gone 
by the Cape and St. Helena. 

Zanzibar, Dec. 26, 1866. 

My dear Bates,— I have written fully to Sir 
Roderick (Murchison) three weeks ago with all the 
information we yet have got regarding poor Living- 
stone. . . . On the 5th of December nine Johanna 
men of the party which accompanied Dr. Livingstone 
came to Zanzibar, reporting that on the west of Nyassa, 
some time between the end of July and September, 
they were suddenly attacked by a band of Mazitu and 
that Dr. Livingstone, with half his party, were murdered. 
Those who returned escaped, as they say, through 
being behind and unseen, and they all depose to having 
helped to bury the dead body of their leader the same 
evening. Although in the details, and in other things, 
the accounts of the various men differ, they all agree 
that they saw the body and that it had one wound — 
that of an axe — on the back of the neck. One man 
saw the fatal blow given. The attack was sudden, 
but Dr. Livingstone had time to overpower those that 
faced him and was struggling to reload when cut down 
from behind. I fear the story is true, and that we 
shall never know more of its details. Full statements 
have gone home, but this may reach Aden by an 
American vessel. You will see if this arrives first 
that we have sad news for the Society on the way. 

I remain, 
Yours, 

J. Kirk. 



DAVID LIVINGSTONE 117 

To the present generation it will not be easy to 
understand the excitement caused by this letter when 
it reached England early in 1867. Dr. Livingstone 
held much the same position with his fellow country- 
men that General Gordon was to fill twenty-five years 
later ; to perhaps three in four of them he was an 
almost legendary hero, to the rest a rather troublesome 
fanatic; but none would have denied that whatever 
he was, he was certainly the most famous man then 
living in the British Empire. His adventures weie 
as well known as the stories in the Bible, and the news 
of his death touched the pulse of millions. Opinion 
was sharply divided over it ; Kirk's letter seemed 
conclusive to the majority, but there was an uncon- 
vinced minority, and among them were those who were 
best qualified to judge. Mr. Edward Young, who had 
travelled with Livingstone in 1862, had seen something 
of Musa and knew him for a liar ; Mr. Horace Waller 
and Sir Roderick Murchison also disbelieved his story. 
So while ' the country resounded with lamentations 
and the newspapers were full of obituary notices, 5 
the Royal Geographical Society organised a search 
expedition and gave Mr. Young the command of it. 

He sailed on June 9, 1867, with three companions- 
Mr. Faulkner, John Reid, and Patrick Buckley ; they 
were in the mouth of the Zambesi by July 25, and 
quickly launched a steel boat named the Search and 
some smaller boats. With these they went swiftly 
up the Zambesi and Shire, passed the Murchison cata- 
racts by taking the Search to pieces and carrying it 
overland, then putting it together again above, without 
a hitch or a missing screw. They reached the south 
end of Lake Nyassa, and were there driven by a gale 



118 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

into a small bay. This was an almost incredible stroke 
of good fortune, for in this bay they came quite un- 
expectedly upon a native who told them that a white 
man had been there towards the end of the previous 
year ; and by his description this man was certainly 
Livingstone. The expedition had crossed then, not 
by the northern but the southern end of the lake ; 
Musa had given false evidence on this point, and he 
might well be false on the rest. 

This was encouraging but not conclusive, and Mr. 
Young decided to search at an Arab crossing-place 
twenty miles further up. He did so, and fell in with 
a large party of native fishermen, who had received 
presents from Livingstone, and recognised his photo- 
graph among a number of others. Other natives at 
the crossing-place told him that Livingstone had tried 
to cross there, but had fa'led to get boats and had gone 
south. Mr. Young then went to Marenga, the point 
at which the Johanna men had turned back, and there 
the chief Marenga told how he himself had ferried 
Livingstone, who was a friend of his, across a small 
inlet of the lake. At Maksowa, two days further on, 
a number of men were found who had been employed 
by Livingstone to carry his baggage twenty miles 
towards the north. Finally, at Maponda, the chief's 
mother assured Mr. Young that Livingstone had 
passed through there, and that some of his party had 
afterwards returned that way. All this evidence 
pointed to what was indeed the fact, that Livingstone 
had passed safely through the most dangerous section 
of his journey and gone on his way north, after being 
deserted by the cowardly Johanna men. The search 
expedition therefore turned back, and reached England 



DAVID LIVINGSTONE 119 

with the welcome news by February 1867. Their 
success was finally confirmed on April 8 following, 
when letters were received in London from Livingstone 
himself, dated from a district far beyond the place 
where he was said to have been murdered. In reply, 
an account was sent off to inform Livingstone of the 
Young expedition and its return ; the letter reached 
him in February 1870, exactly three years afterwards, 
and nothing could show more convincingly that 
Livingstone was now almost lost to the world of 
civilisation. 

Two and a half years passed, and then towards the 
end of 1869 another letter got through from Living- 
stone. It was dated on May 13, 1869, from Ujiji on 
the north-east shore of Lake Tanganyika, the advanced 
base to which he had ordered stores and letters to be 
sent. He had arrived there on March 14, after discover- 
ing Lake Bangweolo on the way ; but the supplies 
he was expecting had been delayed or dispersed by a 
war which was raging on the lines of communication 
from the coast. Four months later his daughter 
Agnes heard from him that he was exploring the 
Manyuema country to the west of Tanganyika ; letters 
had failed to reach him, but he had received from some 
unknown donor copies of the Saturday Review and a set 
of Punch for 1868, which were very welcome to him, 
for he had long ago lost all books but the Bible and 
Smith's c Dictionary of the Bible, 5 and of Punch he 
had always been especially fond. 

Another long silence followed ; then in January 
1871 came a letter dated September 1870 and written 
on a leaf of his cheque-book, all his notepaper being 
used up. He was then at Bambarre, on the way to the 



120 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

River Lualaba, where floods and lame feet kept him 
shut up for over seven months. ' My chronometers 
are all dead,' he writes. c I hope my old watch was 
sent to Zanzibar ; but I have got no letters for years, 
save some, three years old, at Ujiji. I have an intense 
and sore longing to finish and retire, and trust that the 
Almighty may permit me to go home.' In another 
letter to his daughter Agnes he wrote at this time : 
4 1 felt all along sure that all my friends would wish 
me to make a complete work of it, and in that wish, 
in spite of every difficulty, I cordially joined. I hope 
to present to my young countrymen an example of 
manly perseverance. I shall not hide from you that 
I am made by it very old and shaky, my cheeks fallen 
in, space round the eyes, ditto ; mouth almost tooth- 
less—a few teeth that remain, out of their line, so that 
a smile is that of a he-hippopotamus. 5 

These letters were the last received, and they were 
not such as to reassure anyone. It was now more than 
five years since Livingstone had started on his journey, 
and all that was known of him was that at a date long 
past he was lying in a hut dead lame, with only three 
followers and no stores, at a distance of forty-five days 5 
march from Ujiji, which was itself almost out of reach 
from England. Dismay fell upon his friends through- 
out the English-speaking world. Meanwhile the un- 
defeated traveller, ill and lame, was up again and 
turning homeward. On July 20, 1871, he started on 
his 600- mile tramp back to Ujiji ; he reached it on 
October 23, a living skeleton. 

The cargo of merchandise which should have been 
there had indeed arrived, but the Arab Shereef, to 
whom it had been consigned, had sold the whole- — 



DAVID LIVINGSTONE 121 

3000 yards of calico and 700 lb. of beads, with which 
men were to have been hired for the journey to the 
coast. Shereef came, without shame, to salute Living- 
stone ; he said he had divined on the Koran, and found 
that the owner of the goods was dead and would not 
need them. Livingstone was not dead, but he was 
a beggar in a strange land, very far from home. 

The most astounding reversal of fortune was await- 
ing him. Five days later a noise of guns and shouting 
was heard outside Ujiji ; the crowd rushed out, with 
all the Arab dignitaries among them ; a servant came 
running back to tell Livingstone that 4 an Englishman 
was coming. 5 Livingstone walked out from his house, 
and in a few minutes in the sight of all Ujiji he was 
standing under the American flag shaking hands with 
Henry Morton Stanley, of whom he had never heard 
in his life. 



IV. HENRY STANLEY 

1. The Meaning of a Name 

Who was Henry Morton Stanley, this young journalist 
who had come suddenly from nowhere in the nick of 
time, thundering into Ujiji with his American flag, 
his Winchester rifles, and his invaluable stores ? What 
the man was could be easily seen : ' Short of stature, 
lean and wiry, with a brown face, a strong chin, a square 
Napoleonic head, and noticeable eyes — round lion-like 
eyes, watchful and kindly, that yet glowed with a 
hidden fire — he was a strong and attractive personality. 5 
But Livingstone, as he sat and talked with him in the 
verandah that afternoon must have been wondering 
not only how he came to be there — that, no doubt, was 
soon told — but who he was, and by what course of life 
he had been trained for his astonishing achievement. 
Probably the questions remained unasked or unanswered, 
for the two travellers had the whole history of Europe, 
Asia, Africa, and America for the last four years to talk 
about ; and it was not till many years afterwards, 
when both the great explorers were dead, that Stanley's 
Autobiography was given to the public by his wife, 
Dorothy Lady Stanley. 

There are many lives of men of British birth which 
show how a boy may grow from very humble or dis- 
advantageous beginnings to success, fame, and even 

122 



HENRY STANLEY 123 

to greatness. But the career of Henry Stanley stands 
out among them all for sheer romance, as well as for 
the development of an admirable character. To make 
good this statement it is only necessary to give a bare 
outline of the facts, as recorded in one of the most 
interesting books ever written in English. 

Henry Stanley's name is a fitting symbol of his 
career : he gained it partly by good fortune, partly by 
the attractiveness of his personality, but by natural 
inheritance it was in no way his. He was born in 1841, 
and named John after his father John Rowlands, the 
son of an elder John Rowlands, a Welsh farmer in the 
Vale of Clwyd. His mother, Elizabeth, was the youngest 
daughter of Moses Parry, another prosperous farmer 
at PI as Bigot in the same valley ; but both families had 
losses and came down in the world. Young John's 
father died when the boy was only a few weeks old, 
and he was brought up until he was fifteen years old 
in the St. Asaph Union Workhouse, under a terrific 
master named Francis, who flogged him till he was 
old enough and strong enough to run away. After 
some very entertaining months with his Aunt Mary, 
his Aunt Maria and his Uncle Tom — all people eminently 
worth knowing — John decided to go to sea, and sailed 
for New Orleans at three days' notice as cabin boy in 
the packet ship Windermere, under a rascally American 
skipper with two fiendish mates. All the way across he 
and the other boys were bullied and thrashed, with 
the deliberate object of making them run away when 
the ship reached America, and so forfeit their pay. 
John was duly informed of this trick by his companions, 
but he preferred his liberty to his money, and when 
the Windermere lay off the levee at New Orleans he 



124 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

slipped overboard in the dark and hid himself in the 
shadow of a pile of cotton bales. 

At daybreak he dusted himself and stole oft into 
the town, looking for any chance of work. In Tchapi- 
toulas Street he found one of the greatest chances that 
fortune ever offered to a boy. In front of No. 3 Store 
he saw a gentleman of middle age in a tall hat and dark 
alpaca suit, tilting his chair back against the frame 
of the door and leisurely reading a newspaper. John 
liked his face, and spoke to him. ' Do you want a 
boy, sir ? ■ 

c A boy/ replied the gentleman slowly. ' No, I 
do not think I want one. What should I want a boy 
for ? Where do you hail from ? You are not an 
American.' 

John told his story. ' So— you are friendless in a 
strange land, eh ? — and want work, to begin making 
your fortune, eh ? Well, what work can you do ? 
Can you read ? What book is that in your pocket ? * 

And so the conversation went on : it was exactly 
characteristic of both of them, and they took to each 
other on the spot. The gentleman in alpaca was not 
the owner of the store, but a broker who dealt between 
New Orleans and the up-river planters, and had a desk 
in the store ; so that he had no difficulty in procuring 
a place there for John at once. His name was Henry 
Morton Stanley — a well-to-do man with a good wife, 
but lacking one great thing in life, a son to bear his 
name after him. 

Of this however he was probably not at the moment 
conscious, and John, of course, knew nothing about it. 
He only realised that he was a free man from this time 
onwards with a chance in the world. He wrote after- 



HENRY STANLEY 



125 



wards, c There have been several memorable occasions 
in my life ; but among them, this first initial stage 
towards dignity and independence must ever be 
prominent. ... I soon became sensible of a kindling 




A boy," replied the gentleman slowly, 
don't think I want one." ' 



No, I 



elation of spirit, for the speech of all to me was as 
though everyone recognised that I had entered into 
the great human fraternity.' In a word, he was kindly 
treated and appreciated his ' American rights,' as 
he calls them ; the right of free opinions, free speech, 
freedom from insult, oppression, and the contempt of 



126 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

class : the right to be estimated solely by his individual 
character, without regard to his age, his wealth or 
poverty, his humble or illustrious origin. In most of 
these matters the old country is not so different from 
America as he then imagined : a boy like him would 
have made his way at home, inevitably. But he had 
just escaped from exceptionally hard circumstances, and 
he felt, as he says, ' a proud glad holiday spirit. 5 

He was now a c junior clerk ' with a salary, and he 
spent money on books — a remarkable selection. First, 
Gibbon's c Decline and Fall ' in four volumes, because 
it had associations with his old school days. Then 
Spenser's ' Faerie Queene,' Tasso's c Jerusalem Delivered/ 
Pope's ' Iliad,' and Dryden's ' Odyssey ' ; ' Paradise 
Lost,' 6 Plutarch's Lives,' ' Simplicius on Epictetus,' 
and a big ' History of the United States,' in order to 
know the past of his new country. For the right boy, 
these are the right books ; and when he had them in 
the book-case he made for himself, he says, ' I do 
believe my senses contained as much delight as they 
were able to endure without making me extravagant 
in behaviour.' 

He was, in fact, thoroughly alive, and besides enjoy- 
ing himself gave complete satisfaction to his employers. 
Mr. and Mrs. Stanley were good friends to him ; he 
spent every Sunday with them, and Mr. Stanley not 
only recommended fresh books to him but sent him 
an instalment of a dozen, including the works of 
Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, Goldsmith, Cowper, Byron, 
and Washington Irving. With these, and Mr. Stanley's 
conversation, and his daily work, John was getting a 
first-rate education. 

When he was eighteen his fortune changed, or 



HENRY STANLEY 127 

seemed to change. In her husband's absence, Mrs. 
Stanley fell seriously ill. John could not leave her 
house, for he was useful there as night watch. He 
asked his employers for a few days' leave ; they were 
annoyed and told him he might stay away for good. 
Mrs. Stanley died three days later, and her brother-in- 
law, Captain Stanley, who took charge of everything, 
frankly told John that he was no longer needed. John, 
utterly forlorn, went to sea again. 

This time his captain was a kind old man, who 
advised him not to be downhearted : c If you will 
have patience, and continue in well-doing, your future 
will be better than you dream of.' He sent him off, 
with a small sum of money, to look for Mr. Stanley at 
St. Louis. John found on inquiry that his friend had 
now gone back to New Orleans ; he worked his passage 
there on a lumber boat, pulling a huge oar, peeling 
potatoes, and scouring plates for the crew — anything 
to get there. At the end of a month he got there. 

The result was decisive ; he found Mr. Stanley at 
once. c His reception of me,' he says, ' was so paternal 
that the prodigal son could not have been more delighted.' 
Then, as they talked, John heard words that he could 
hardly realise ; a peculiar sensation came over him 
and held him c spell-bound and thrilled to the soul.' 
Mr. Stanley had heard on his return all about John's 
dismissal and the cause of it. c He was now saying, 
with some emotion, that my future should be his 
charge.' So John Rowlands became by a sudden turn 
of the wheel the adopted son and namesake of Henry 
Morton Stanley, of whom he always afterwards spoke 
and wrote as c my father.' 

For some time his education proceeded in the old 



128 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

way, and more happily than ever. Then in 1860 a 
Southern planter offered young Henry an opening for 
a store in Saline County, Arkansas. In that most 
unhealthy valley he had spent a few miserable months, 
when the Civil War broke out, and the whole country 
of the South was thrown into the utmost confusion. 
In the midst of this, Mr. Stanley died suddenly, and 
young Henry was so cut off by the blockade of New 
Orleans that he only received the news long afterwards. 
The war fever mounted high meanwhile, and Henry 
was persuaded without much difficulty to enlist on 
the side of the Southerners, among whom he had been 
living since he became an American. He joined the 
6th Arkansas Regiment, called the Dixie Greys, and 
soon became known among his comrades in E Company, 
who all loved him, as 4 the Boyish Soldier ' or ' the 
Great Boy. 5 

But he did not like war : he speaks of his enlistment 
as the first of many blunders, which precipitated him 
into a furnace, hardening but painful to the moral sense. 
Still, being the man he was, he endured and fought as 
well as anyone, and his experiences make a vivid story ; 
but it was not an unlucky day for him when at Shiloh, 
the greatest battle of the war, he was taken prisoner 
and sent North to be interned at Camp Douglas. After 
two months there in the most appalling sanitary 
conditions he was nearly mad from illness and despair : 
just in time he was induced to enroll in the U.S. Artillery, 
but within three days went down with dysentery and 
low fever. A fortnight later he was discharged from 
the service, a wreck. 

This was in June 1862. In November he arrived 
in Liverpool, poor, shabbily dressed, and in bad health. 



HENRY STANLEY 129 

6 1 made my way,' he writes, c to Denbigh, to my mother's 
house. With what pride I knocked at the door, buoyed 
up by a hope of being able to show what manliness 
I had acquired, not unwilling, perhaps, to magnify what 
I meant to become. ... I was told that I was a disgrace 
to them in the eyes of their neighbours, and they 
desired me to leave as speedily as possible.' 

2. The Adventures of a Journalist 

This unhappy experience made a lasting impression 
on Stanley : he had a deep tenderness in his nature 
which could not change, but he seems to have felt half 
consciously that it must in future be guarded from 
such shocks, and the way to guard it Was by a habitual 
reserve, an almost stern self-command. He returned to 
America, and as an outlet for his energies chose a 
sea-life once more. Through 1863 and the early part 
of 1864 he was in the merchant service, sailing to the 
West Indies, Spain, and Italy ; then he served for a 
few months in the U.S. Navy. In 1865 he came ashore 
and travelled about America, from Missouri across 
the Plains, to Salt Lake City, Denver, Black Hawk, 
Omaha and Boston, doing newspaper work, and leaning 
more and more towards journalism as a profession. 
In July 1866 he sailed from Boston for Smyrna as a 
newspaper correspondent, in company with his friend 
W. H. Cook. They ventured into the wilder districts 
of Turkey, where they were robbed and beaten, arrested 
as malefactors, and only just saved from death. 

On his return from this spirited but unfortunate 
venture, Stanley made his ' first entry into journalistic 
life as a " selected special " ' at St. Louis. In 1867 he 
went on campaign in the bloodless Indian War ; in 

K 



130 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

1868 he was sent by the New York Herald — a very 
enterprising paper — to accompany the march of the 
British Army into Abyssinia, and he succeeded in 
getting a despatch through to London with the earliest 
news of the overthrow of King Theodore at Magdala. 
He then visited the Suez Canal, which was approaching 
completion, and Crete, where he very nearly married 
a Greek girl ; then to Athens, Rhodes, Beyrout and 
Alexandria, and so to Spain, where he received a 
summons from the Herald's agent to come at once to 
London. 

The most enterprising newspaper in the world had 
had a new idea. It was rumoured that Dr. Livingstone 
was on his way home from Central Africa, where for 
years he had been almost beyond touch with Europe. 
The new idea was that by going to Aden, or perhaps 
to Zanzibar, Stanley might meet him and do a ' scoop ' 
by getting the first account of his adventures. Stanley 
was, as usual, ready to go anywhere at a word : by 
November 21 he was at Aden. But the rumours 
turned out to be entirely without foundation : as we 
have already seen, Livingstone was at this time literally 
years away. In March 1869 Stanley came back to 
London. He was sent immediately to report the 
Revolutionary War in Spain ; but after six months 
crowded with exciting scenes and journalistic feats 
he was once more recalled, this time to Paris, to meet 
Mr. James G. Bennett, the proprietor of the Herald. 

This extraordinary man had planned for Stanley 
an extraordinary programme. He had realised that 
here was a traveller of inexhaustible energy, a corre- 
spondent of great journalistic ability, and a man of 
original character ; he determined to give these qualities 



HENRY STANLEY 181 

the widest field and the most abundant resources. 
Stanley was to report on the opening of the Suez Canal, 
on Baker's Expedition to Upper Egypt, the under- 
ground explorations in Jerusalem, Turkish politics, 
archaeological digging in the Crimea, the political 
situation of the Caucasus, and the affairs of Trans- 
Caspia, Persia, and India ; finally, as a climax to all 
this, he was to return to Africa, not merely to meet 
Livingstone, as he had hoped to do before, but to 
search for him, find him, and rescue him. 

This amazing list of agenda was actually carried 
out. In less than a year Stanley had marked off in 
turn every item but the last, and by August 1870 he 
was leaving Bombay : on December 31, he reached 
Zanzibar, fifteen months after receiving his first com- 
mission for this journey. The outlook, however, was 
not encouraging : during those fifteen months not a 
word of news about Livingstone had reached Zanzibar ; 
no letters or instructions from the Herald were waiting 
there ; no money for expenses. About 80 dollars was 
all that Stanley had to provide him with an army 
and its transport. 

But the American Consul supplied a sum sufficient 
for the present, and the expedition was immediately 
formed. When ready, on March 21, 1871, it consisted 
of three white men, 81 armed Zanzibaris as escort, 
153 porters and 27 pack animals for transport, with 
two riding-horses : carrying, of course, many bales of 
cloth, beads, wire, provisions and medical stores, and 
also, as Stanley himself specially remarks, a great many 
newspapers and a Bible. The point of this is, that during 
the frequent fevers with which his journey began, he spent 
time constantly on both these kinds of reading, and his 



132 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

views about them were entirely recast. 'It appeared to 
me that the reading of anything in the newspapers, ex- 
cept that for which they were intended, namely news, was 
a waste of time, and deteriorative of native force, and 
worth, and personality. The Bible, however, with its 
noble and simple language I continued to read with a 
higher and truer understanding than I had ever before 
conceived. . . . The one reminded me that apart from 
God, my life was but a bubble of air, and it bade me 
remember my Creator : the other fostered arrogance 
and w r orldliness. 5 He admits that some of the news- 
papers he read were uncommonly poor specimens of 
journalism ; but he is clear that from this time news- 
paper opinion lost for ever the power which it once had, 
of governing, and perhaps perverting, his own views. 

Early in May the expedition began to ascend the 
Usagara range, and in eight marches reached Ugogo, ' in- 
habited by a bumptious, full-chested, square- shouldered 
people, who exact heavy tribute from all caravans.' 
Nine marches more took Stanley through their territory, 
and into Unyamwezi, or the Land of the Moon, the 
home of a turbulent and combative race. Here, at 
Unyanyembe, there was a colony of Arab traders : they 
were always scouring the country for ivory, but they 
had no information about Livingstone. He was of 
course known to have been some time before at Ujiji, on 
Lake Tanganyika ; but he might now be in Manyuema, 
or on the Congo, making for the West Coast, or forcing 
his way north in search of the Nile. It was Stanley's 
intention to go straight for Ujiji, after a rest of some 
ten days at Unyanyembe, where he arrived on June 23. 

But here occurred an interruption which might 
have been disastrous. On July 6, news came that 



HENRY STANLEY 133 

Mirambo, a chief of Unyamwezi, had blackmailed and 
turned back a caravan bound for Ujiji, declaring that 
no Arab caravan should pass through his country while 
he was alive. His real reason was that he had a long 
grudge against Mkasiwa, King of Unyanyembe, with 
whom the Arabs lived on extremely friendly terms : 
and being himself a scoundrel he had proposed to the 
Arabs that they should make an alliance with him and 
betray Mkasiwa. The Arabs replied that they could 
not possibly abandon a friend who lived at peace with 
them. Mirambo then sent them this message, worthy 
of a European war-lord : * For many years I have 
fought against the Washeuse (the natives), but this 
year is a great year with me. I intend to fight all the 
Arabs, as well as Mkasiwa, King of Unyanyembe.' 

War was declared accordingly on July 15, and this 
put Stanley in a very- awkward position. Mirambo 
occupied the country which lay between where the expe- 
dition now was and where it was hoping to find Living- 
stone. It could not go forward until one side or the 
other was defeated and peace was made. Stanley might 
sit down and wait, or he might join in the war and 
help to end it earlier. Mirambo was a militarist and 
an autocrat : if he were successful he would probably 
make it impossible for anyone to return from Ujiji to 
Unyanyembe. On the other hand all would be easy 
for the expedition if the Arabs won : they had plenty 
of guns, and Stanley thought he could give them material 
assistance. He therefore decided to make war on 
Mirambo. 

On July 20 a force of 2,000 men — the soldiers 
and slaves of the Arabs — marched from Unyanyembe 
to fight Mirambo. With them went also the soldiers 



134 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

of the Herald Expedition, to the number of forty, 
with Stanley at their head, and the American flag 
flying over them. The show was a very imposing 
one : all the slaves and soldiers were decorated with 
crowns of feathers, and had long crimson cloaks flowing 
from their shoulders and trailing on the ground. They 
were armed, some with percussion guns, some with 
matchjocks, profusely decorated with silver bands, 
and they made a tremendous amount of noise as 
they advanced across the plains, with an extravagant 
exhibition of sham fighting. 

On the second day they reached Mfuto and feasted 
freely on meat slaughtered for the braves. Stanley 
went down with fever ; but he had himself carried in 
his hammock when the march went on again. On the 
fourth day the enemy's country was reached and the 
village of Zimbizo was captured. On the fifth day a 
detachment went out to reconnoitre, caught a spy, 
and beheaded him on the spot. This success elated 
the Arabs and brought them to grief. Some five 
hundred of them, under Saoud, son of Said-bin-Majid, 
volunteered to go on and capture Wilyankurn, where 
Mirambo was just then with several of his principal 
chiefs. Stanley suggested that they should line out 
and fire the long grass before they advanced, so as 
to rout out the enemy's skirmishers and spies, and have 
a clear field of action. But c an Arab will never take 
advice ' : they arrived before Wilyankurn without 
taking any precautions, fired a few volleys into the 
village, and then charged. 

Mirambo was a savage, but he was much cleverer 
than these men of the old and famous Arab race. When 
his enemies rushed the gate of the village, he slipped 




^UnlejiUv/oDct, 



' Fired a few volleys into the village, and then charged.' 



136 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

out of another gate, with his 400 fighting men, took 
them round the outside of the village and placed them 
in ambush close to the road by which the attack had 
been made. When the Arabs returned they were to 
rise at a signal from him, and each to stab his man. 

The Arabs meanwhile took the place without 
opposition. They might have been put on their guard 
by the total absence of Mirambo and his troops, but 
they were too much occupied with the ivory and slaves 
which they found in plenty abandoned to their valour. 
They loaded themselves with booty and moved out to 
return by the way they came. Their march did not 
last long : Mirambo gave his signal, his forest thieves 
rose instantly, speared each his man, and decapitated 
him too. Not an Arab survived, but some of the 
slaves escaped and ran with the news to Zimbizo. 

The loss was serious, but the panic was out of all 
proportion. At first Stanley and the soldier Khamis- 
bin-Abdullah stopped the cry for a retreat, but next 
morning, as Stanley lay shivering with fever, the 
Governor, Said-bin-Salim, came in and told him that 
the Arabs were off for Unyanyembe. Stanley pointed 
out that Mirambo would certainly follow, and then 
they would have to fight at their own doors. But 
even as the Governor left him, he heard a great noise 
and confusion : he looked out and saw the whole force 
running away, with the Governor himself mounting 
his donkey to get ahead of them. In the go-as-you- 
please race for Mfuto, Said-bin-Salim came in first, 
doing the nine hours 5 march in four hours, which, as 
Stanley says, ' shows how fast a man can travel when 
• . . in a hurry.' 

Fever or no fever, Stanley had to bestir himself. 



HENRY STANLEY 137 

He got up and looked about him : his men had all lost 
their heads, and even Kharnis-bin-Abdullah was about 
to bolt. Stanley collected a small band — Shaw, the 
sick Englishman, Selim, the brave Arab boy, Bombay, 
the native servant who had travelled with Burton and 
Speke, Mabruki, another man of Burton's, Sarmeen, 
and Uredi Manna Sera. These seven reached Mfuto 
at midnight, and next day an attempt was made to 
rally the Arabs, but they had become demoralised, 
and left even their tents and ammunition to the enemy. 
Ten days afterwards Mirambo, as Stanley had predicted, 
was camping within view of the Arab capital, Tabora, 
with 1,000 guns and 15,000 allies of the Watuta tribe. 

A second disaster quickly followed. Khamis-bin- 
Abdullah, the bravest of all the Arabs, went out to 
attack Mirambo with eighty armed slaves and five 
Arabs, one of whom was his own young son Khamis. 
It was a forlorn hope, and the slaves knew it. As soon 
as they saw the enemy they ran for their lives : Mirambo 5 s 
men surrounded the half-dozen Arabs and poured their 
Whole available fire into them. Their medicine men 
then hurried up and extracted a powerful concoction 
from the bodies of the slain, which was drunk that 
night with great ceremony, c dances, drum-beating, 
and general fervour of heart.' 

The Arabs, panic-stricken again, now began pouring 
out of Tabora into Stanley's headquarters in the 
neighbouring valley of Kwihara. An attack seemed 
probable, so the place was at once loopholed for defence, 
trenches and rifle pits were dug, pots filled with water, 
provisions collected, watchmen posted, ammunition 
boxes unscrewed, and the American flag hoisted on a 
high bamboo over the roof. Stanley's spirits rose : 



138 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

if Mirambo would only attack the war might be over 
in a few hours. All night the garrison stood to arms, 
but they saw only the flames which were consuming the 
suburbs of Tabora. When morning came Mirambo- 
departed with the cattle and ivory he had captured. 
The road to Ujiji was more completely closed than ever. 

3. The Finding of Livingstone 

Stanley was now in what might well have seemed 
to him a desperate position : he had lost five of his 
little force, his allies were totally defeated, his enemy 
lay across his path in overwhelming strength : he and 
his only white companions were ill. But these con- 
siderations weighed literally nothing with him — they 
were not considerations at all, so long as Livingstone 
was still to be found. He set to work at once to re- 
organise his expedition. It took him three months, 
and in spite of the death of one of his white men and 
several natives, the desertion of forty carriers and the 
loss by disease of all his transport animals but two, 
he found himself in September at the head of nearly 
sixty picked men, almost all well armed, and well 
supplied with all stores. 

The conclusion at which he had arrived was that 
if he could not go through Mirambo' s country he might 
march round it. ' A flank march might be made, 
sufficiently distant from the disturbed territory and 
sufficiently long to enable me to strike west and make 
another attempt to reach the Arab colony on Lake 
Tanganyika.' This was not so easy as it looks on 
paper : it meant from 200 to 300 miles extra marching, 
and for the first part of the route he would be exposed 
to a flank attack by Mirambo if the mighty war-lord 



HENRY STANLEY 139 

chose to pursue his advantage in that way. The 
road may be traced on the map by drawing first a line 
150 miles long from Unyanyembe, going south by west, 
then 150 miles W.N.W., then 90 miles north half-east, 
then 70 miles west by north ; and it must be remembered 
that a day's march would only average between ten and 
twelve miles a day. 

The expedition left Unyanyembe on September 23, 
and for twenty-two days travelled south-west, covering 
about 240 miles. Troubles began at once : carriers 
bolted and had to be brought back and flogged ; Shaw, 
the Englishman, broke down finally and had to be sent 
home ; a mutiny was only put down by the strong hand, 
and food at times was uncomfortably scarce. But 
Mirambo was safely circumvented ; at Mpokwa, which 
is ten days' march from his capital, Stanley felt that he 
could venture to turn westward, and thirty-five miles 
farther on he prolonged his turn to a more northerly 
line. At the 105th mile of this northerly journey he 
came to the ferry over the Malagarazi river, and knew 
that he was comfortably on the far side of Mirambo, who 
by this time lay eight days' march to the east. He 
could now march direct for the lake, leaving his enemy 
further behind at every mile. 

At the Malagarazi he met a native caravan and 
heard news which startled the whole expedition into 
excitement. The caravan men, who were natives 
of West Tanganyika, stated that a white man had 
reached Ujiji from Manyuema, a few hundred miles 
west of the lake. It is easy to imagine the intense 
anxiety with which Stanley tried to test their story. 
Very few of his men could speak the language of the 
informants, and both questions and answers had to be 



140 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

brief and blunt : but the evidence was clear and posi- 
tive that the stranger was elderly, grey-bearded, white, 
wearing clothes somewhat like Stanley's own ; that 
he had been at Ujiji before, but had been absent for 
years in the western country and had only returned 
the day the caravan left, or the day before. 

Of course he might be Livingstone ; but could he 
be anyone else ? Sir Samuel Baker was known to be 
in Central Africa at this moment ; but he was not 
grey-bearded when last seen. A traveller might have 
arrived from the West Coast — Englishmen had not 
been doing much on that side, and this might be a 
Portuguese, a German, or a Frenchman — but then no 
one of these nations had ever been heard of in connection 
with Ujiji. Stanley dismissed his doubts ; his reason 
and his instinct told him that this was Livingstone, 
and that all he had to do was to press forward. 

He crossed the river, and entered the country of the 
factious and warlike tribe, the Wahha. Here he was 
immediately summoned to halt, and to pay an amount 
of tribute which would have beggared the expedition. 
After long hours of haggling he got off with a smaller 
sum, but the next day he was halted again and made 
to pay two more bales of cloth, with the assurance that 
this was really the last demand. Nevertheless the 
same game of extortion was played next day for the 
third time. Stanley would tolerate this no longer: 
he had two more marches to make in the territory of 
these thieves and he meant to make them without 
payment. He laid in four days' provisions, woke his 
people at midnight, made them pack and steal away 
in twos and threes, leaving the road and marching 
over the open plain. In this way they got clear away 



HENRY STANLEY 141 

unperceived, and in eighteen hours crossed the boundary 
from Uhha into Ukaranga. 

It was now 235 days since Stanley had left the 
Indian Ocean, and fifty since he had started from Un} an- 
yembe : only six hours' march lay between him and 
his goal. The expedition set out next morning in the 
cool twilight of the forest dawn, and by eight o'clock they 
were climbing a steep wooded hill. They reached the 
crest, and there saw, ' as in a painted picture, a vast 
lake in the distance below, with its face luminous as a 
mirror, set in a frame of dimly blue mountains.' It was 
Tanganyika at last, and the thought of a rest from 
their labours filled the whole company with boisterous 
good humour. The caravan plunged gaily down the 
descent, rolled over a few intervening slopes and cane 
brakes, and about noon came to the summit of the 
last ridge. The lake was there within half a mile of 
them. 

Stanley describes it like a man in a dream. c I look 
enraptured,' he writes in his Autobiography, ' upon the 
magnificent expanse of water, and the white- tipped 
billows of the inland sea. I see the sun and the clear 
white sky reflected a million million times upon the 
dancing waves. I hear the sounding surge on the 
pebbled shore ; I see its crispy edge curling over and 
creeping up the land, to return again to the watery 
hollows below. I see canoes, far away from the shore, 
lazily rocking on the undulating face of the lake. Hard 
by the shore, embowered in palms, on this hot noon the 
village of Ujiji broods drowsily. No living thing can 
be seen moving to break the stilly aspect of the outer 
lines of the town and its deep shades.' 

This siesta must be broken : in accordance with the 



142 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

ancient custom of the country the caravan's guns must 
give notice of its approach. The men were collected, 
dressed in clean clothes and snowy headgear, and with 
a tremendous noise of firing they marched down the 
hill. 

A tumultuous stir became visible on the outer edge 
of the town. Groups of men in white, with arms in 
hand, burst from the shades, hesitated a moment, 
and then came rushing to meet the travellers. The 
foremost cried, ' Why, we took you for Mirambo and 
his bandits — it is an age since a caravan has come to 
Ujiji. Which way did you come ? Ah ! you have a 
white man with you — is this his caravan ? ' 

The crowd came pressing round Stanley, salaaming 
to him and jostling each other. He was about to ask 
whether it was true that there was a white man in 
Ujiji, when a tall black man in a white shirt burst 
through the crowd and said with a bow, ' Good morning, 
sir,' adding, ' I am Susi, sir, the servant of Dr. Living- 
stone.' 

' What ! Is Dr. Livingstone here, in this town ? ' 

6 Yes, sir.' 

c But are you sure — sure that it is Dr. Livingstone ? ' 

' Why, I leave him just now, sir. ' 

And thereupon Chuma, another well-known servant 
of Livingstone's, also appeared. Stanley suggested 
that one of them should run ahead and tell the Doctor 
of his coming. Susi was instantly seen racing headlong, 
with his white dress streaming behind him ' like a 
wind-whipped pennant.' 

1 The column,' Stanley writes, c continued on its 
way, beset on either flank by a vehemently enthusiastic 
and noisily rejoicing mob, which bawled a jingling 



HENRY STANLEY 143 

chorus of " Yambos " to every mother's son of us, and 
maintained an inharmonious orchestral music of drums 
and horns. I was indebted for this loud ovation to 
the cheerful relief the people felt that we were not 
Mirambo's bandits, and to their joy at the happy 
rupture of the long silence that had perforce existed 
between the two trading colonies of Unyanyembe and 
Ujiji, and because we brought news which concerned 
every householder and freeman of this lake port. 

' After a few minutes we came to a halt. The guides 
in the van had reached the market-place, which was 
the central point of interest. For there the great Arabs, 
chiefs and respectabilities of Ujiji, had gathered in a 
group to await events ; thither also they had brought 
with them the venerable European traveller who was 
at that time resting among them. The caravan pressed 
up to them, divided itself into two lines on either side 
of the road, and as it did so, disclosed to me the prominent 
figure of an elderly white man clad in a red flannel 
blouse, grey trousers, and a blue cloth, gold-banded cap. 

1 Up to this moment my mind had verged upon non- 
belief in his existence, and now a nagging doubt intruded 
itself into my mind that this white man could not be 
the object of my quest, or, if he were, that he would 
somehow contrive to disappear before my eyes could 
be satisfied with a view of him. 

6 Consequently, though the expedition was organised 
for this supreme moment, and every movement of it had 
been confidently ordered with a view of discovering 
him, yet when the moment of discovery came, and the 
man himself stood revealed before me, this constantly 
recurring doubt contributed not a little to make me 
unprepared for it. " It may not be Livingstone after 



144 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

all," doubt suggested. " If this is he, what shall I say 
to him ? " My imagination had not taken this question 
into consideration before. All around me was the 
immense crowd, hushed and expectant, and wondering 
how the scene would develop itself. 

' Under all these circumstances I could do no more 
than exercise some restraint and reserve, so I walked 
up to him, and doffing my helmet, bowed and said 
in an inquiring tone — " Dr. Livingstone, I presume ? " 

'Smiling cordially, he lifted his cap and answered 
" Yes." 

'This ending all scepticism on my part, my face 
betrayed the earnestness of my satisfaction as I extended 
my hand and added : '* I thank God, Doctor, that I 
have been permitted to see you." In the warm grasp 
he gave my hand and the heartiness of his voice, I felt 
that he also was sincere and earnest as he replied, 
" I feel most thankful that I am here to welcome you." 
Then, remarking that the sun was very hot, the Doctor 
led the way to the verandah of his house, which was 
close by and fronted the market-place. The vast crowd 
moved with us.' 

4. The Breaker of Rocks. 

Of all the gifts which fortune lavished upon Stanley, 
none was more remarkable than his natural tempera- 
ment — that habitual mood of sanguine vital energy by 
which he was always conquering the world and creating 
his own character. To an idle, greedy, or worldly 
man life must in the end become poorer and poorer : 
to a man like Stanley it will be constantly becoming 
richer and more full of reality. The search for Living- 
stone was a striking example : it was originally under- 



HENRY STANLEY 145 

taken from no higher motive than that of journalistic 
enterprise and the love of adventure, but as it went on 
the journalist was transformed to an explorer, the 
young adventurer made himself into a great man. 

Livingstone was the gainer, too, by this : his rescuer 
brought him a flood of news from the outer world? 
reviving emotions that had long lain dormant in the 
wilds of Manyuema, but it was not merely of the news 
itself that he was speaking when he kept saying to 
Stanley, ' You have brought me new life — you have 
brought me new life. 5 He gave the young stranger 
not only gratitude, but his complete confidence ; told 
him his thoughts and hopes, and entrusted to him 
the whole of his MS. Journals for the last years 1866 
to 1872, to be taken to England when the two travellers 
parted company. 

They went together to Unyanyembe and there said 
good-bye. Livingstone was determined to finish his 
work : he collected fresh stores and started on a final 
journey to Bangweolo and Katanga. It was his final 
journey in another sense. After a year's hard travelling 
he became ill — too ill even to be carried. Susi got 
him to Chitambo's village, in Ilala, and laid him on a 
rough bed in a hut. At four in the morning they found 
him with his candle still burning ; he was quite dead, 
kneeling by his bedside with his head buried in his hands 
upon the pillow. This was a fitting end for the man 
who may be called the greatest of all our travellers : 
for he was a wanderer all his life, he travelled in Africa 
alone twenty-nine thousand miles, he added to the 
known part of the globe a million square miles, and 
from first to last he was free from all desire of personal 
advantage. 



146 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

It is high praise of Stanley to say that he became 
worthy of the man he went to help. The two men 
were very different by nature : Livingstone's career 
was all of one piece, the result of a single constant 
motive ; Stanley's was an almost incredible succession 
of changes, but they were all changes of growth. We 
have seen how the lonely boy became the adventurous 
and self-reliant youth ; his wife explains very con- 
vincingly how the search for Livingstone, and his 
intercourse with him when found, were great causes 
of development in his inner life. 'First,' she says, 
' there was the expedition itself, in which Stanley carried 
an immense and varied responsibility. He was not 
only commander, and chief of staff, but the whole staff : 
discipline, commissariat, and medical care of a force of 
200 men, all fell on him.' Problems of war and diplomacy 
confronted him : he was no longer describing events 
on paper, but making them, as a man dealing with men. 
Her insight goes farther still. * Along with the develop- 
ing effect of the experience, comes the solitary com- 
muning with nature, which brings a spiritual exaltation. 
Then follows the companionship with Livingstone, a 
man of heroic and ideal traits, uniquely educated by 
the African wilds : these two learn to known each other 
by the searching test of hourly companionship amid 
savages, perils, perplexities, days of adventure, nights 
of intimate converse ; Stanley's deepest feelings finding 
worthy object and full response in the man he had 
rescued, and suggestions of spiritual and material 
resources in the unknown continent, destined to 
germinate and bear fruit : all this his first African 
exploration brought to Stanley.' 

The world did not at first understand anything of 



HENRY STANLEY 147 

this : to the commoner minds a journalist was a jour- 
nalist, and to be judged as such to the end. Moreover, a 
man with so public and sensational a record was regarded 
as a fair subject for any and every kind of gossip : 
vulgar, hideous, and absurd slanders accompanied his 
advancing reputation, like a mob of hooligans running 
and yelling beside a great procession. The effect on 
him was excellent. ' It taught me,' he says, ' from 
pure sympathy, reflection, and conviction, to modify 
my judgment about others. 5 He went on with his 
work and left all this noise behind. 

First he lectured in England and America. Then 
in 1873 he went as special correspondent, with the 
British force under Sir Garnet Wolseley, to the Ashantee 
Campaign. Wolseley had been somewhat prejudiced 
against him, but he did not know him by sight. In 
the battle of Amoaful one of the correspondents, he 
says, ' soon attracted my attention by his remarkable 
coolness. A thoroughly good man, no noise, no danger 
ruffled his nerve, and he looked as cool and self-possessed 
as if he had been at target practice. Time after time, 
I saw him go down to a kneeling position to steady 
his rifle, as he plied the most daring of the enemy with 
a never-failing aim. It is nearly thirty years ago, and I 
can still see before me the close-shut lips and deter- 
mined expression of his manly face, which told plainly 
I had near me an Englishman in plain clothes whom 
no danger could appal. It was Sir Henry Stanley, the 
famous traveller. Ever since, I have been proud to 
reckon him among the bravest of my brave comrades. 5 
Not a bad way, that, of converting one of those who 
had been prejudiced by club gossip. 

It was on his way home from this war that the 



148 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

news of Livingstone's death met Stanley. He accepted 
it and acted upon it as a summons to his real life's work. 
c Dear Livingstone ! ' he wrote in his Journal. c Another 
sacrifice to Africa. His mission must not be allowed 
to cease: others must go forward and fill the gap.' 
Then he prays to succeed him, but adds very character- 
istically and honestly : c My methods, however, will not 
be Livingstone's. Each man has his own way. His, 
I think, had its defects, though the old man, personally, 
has been almost Christ-like for goodness, patience and 
self-sacrifice. The selfish and wooden-headed world 
requires mastering, as well as loving charity : for man 
is a composite of the spiritual and earthly.' 

After his return to England he sits down in his 
clear practical fashion to lay out the work that lay 
before him, as he conceived it. ' Let me see : Living- 
stone died in endeavouring to solve the problem of the 
Lualaba river. Speke died by a gunshot wound during 
a discussion as to whether Lake Victoria was one lake, 
as he maintained it to be, or whether, as asserted by 
Captain Burton, James McQueen and other theorists, 
it consisted of a cluster of lakes. 

c Lake Tanganyika, being a sweet-water lake, must 
naturally possess an outlet somewhere. It has not 
been circumnavigated, and is therefore unexplored. I 
will settle that problem also. 

' Then I may be able to throw some light on Lake 
Albert. Sir Samuel Baker voyaged along some sixty 
miles of its north-eastern shore, but he said it was 
illimitable to the south-west. To know the extent of 
that lake would be worth some trouble.' 

So a little while after the burial of Livingstone in 
Westminster Abbey he went to the proprietor of the 



HENRY STANLEY 149 

Daily Telegraph and pointed out to him how much 
of Africa still remained a mystery. Mr. Lawson at 
once cabled to Mr. Bennett of the Herald, and the two 
agreed to send an expedition under Stanley's leadership 
to settle these great geographical questions. It seems 
an odd thing that newspapers and not Governments 
should have undertaken such a piece of world-survey- 
ing ; but it undoubtedly freed the explorer from many 
restrictions and complications. 

The story of the two great journeys which were 
Stanley's contribution to the civilising of Africa cannot 
be told in this book ; but it may be very briefly out- 
lined by a quotation from a paper read in December 
1908 by Sir William Garstin before the Royal Geo- 
graphical Society. 

' I now come,' said Sir William, 6 to what is perhaps 
the most striking personality of all in the roll of the 
discoverers of the Nile, that of Henry Stanley. Stanley 
on his second expedition, starting for the interior on 
November 17, 1874, circumnavigated Lake Victoria and 
corrected the errors of Speke's map as to its shape 
and area. He visited the Nile outlet, and proved that 
the Nyanza was a single sheet of water and not, as 
Burton had asserted, a chain of small separate lakes. 
. . . Stanley's acute mind quickly grasped the possi- 
bilities of Uganda . . . this was in reality the first step 
towards the introduction of British rule in Equatorial 
Africa. 

' Stanley's last voyage, and in some respects his 
greatest expedition, was undertaken (in 1887) for the 
relief of Emin Pasha, at that time cut off from com- 
munication with the outside world. . . . This time 
Stanley started from the Congo, and, travelling up that 



150 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

river, struck eastwards into the Great Forest, which, 
covering many thousands of square miles, stretches 
across a portion of the Semliki Valley and up the western 
flank of Ruwenzori. On emerging from the Forest, 
Stanley reached the Valley of the Semliki, and in 
May 1888 he discovered the mountain chain of RuWen- 
zori. This discovery alone would have sufficed to 
make his third journey famous. It was not all, however. 
After his meeting with Emin, he followed the Semliki 
Valley to the point where this river issues from the 
Albert Edward Nyanza : he was the first traveller 
to trace its source and to prove that it connects the 
two lakes and consequently forms a portion of the 
Nile system. Stanley has thus cleared up the last 
remaining mystery with respect to the Nile sources. It 
is impossible to exaggerate the importance of Stanley's 
work.' 

Stanley therefore carried out his geographical 
programme completely. He added to it the founding 
of the Congo Free State, which proved him a great 
administrator and organiser. 'It was,' wrote Sir 
Sidney Low afterwards, ' a wonderful piece of manage- 
ment, a triumph of energy, resource and hard work. 
Here it was that Stanley earned the title which I think 
gave him more satisfaction than the G.C.B. conferred 
on him towards the end of his life. The natives called 
him " Bula Matari " (the Breaker of Rocks) — an 
appellation bestowed upon him by the brown-skinned 
villagers as they watched the sturdy explorer toiling 
bare-armed under the African sun with axe or hammer 
in hand, showing his labourers how to make the road 
from Vivi to Isangela, which bridged the cataracts 
of the Lower Congo and opened the way to the upper 



HENRY STANLEY 151 

reaches of the river.' It is a fine name, and it was finely 
chosen to be, with the word ' Africa, 5 the only inscription 
on his grave. 

He died at dawn on May 10, 1904. His last words 
were perhaps the most profoundly significant of any 
recorded of great men passing away from that life 
which ' apart from God is but a bubble of air.' As 
four o'clock sounded from Big Ben, Stanley opened 
his eyes and said ' What is that ? ' His wife told him 
it was four o'clock striking. c Four o'clock,' he re- 
peated slowly ; ' how strange ! So that is Time ! 
Strange ! ' 



V. BURKE AND WILLS 

1. Australia from Sea to Sea 

Robert O'Hara Burke was born in 1821 at his father's 
house of St. Clerans in County Galway, Ireland. Mr. 
Burke had been a soldier in his youth, and his three 
sons were all destined for the army. The eldest, John, 
got his commission in the 88th Foot, and served in the 
Crimean War ; the other two, James and Robert, both 
went as cadets to Woolwich. James was already a 
lieutenant in the Royal Engineers when the war broke 
out, and he went to Turkey as a volunteer before our 
own army was ready to sail. He fell very gallantly 
at the head of a Turkish landing party at Giurgevo, 
the first British officer to die in the war. Robert was 
as brave as his brothers, a hard athlete and a bold rider, 
but he was apparently of a more roving nature. He left 
Woolwich to go to Belgium ; he went from Belgium 
into the Austrian army, and then home again into the 
Irish Constabulary. After five years of this he emigrated 
to Australia, where he became police inspector in Mel- 
bourne, and afterwards district inspector and magistrate 
in the Beech worth district. He was not in time for 
the Crimean War, though he hurried back to offer him- 
self as soon as he heard of it ; but on his return to 
Australia he soon found an adventure for which he 
could volunteer. He applied for and obtained the 
appointment of Leader of the Victorian Exploring 
Expedition. 

152 



BURKE AND WILLS 153 

It may seem strange to-day, when Australia is so 
famous among the nations of our Commonwealth, that 
only sixty years ago it should have been necessary to 
send one expedition after another into the interior to 
explore what had long been British territory. But a 
moment's comparison of the old map and the new will 
change this feeling into one of admiration for the 
immense work that has been done in so short a time. In 
the Atlas of to-day the island continent of Australia 
is neatly divided by straight lines into three vertical 
partitions, almost like a tricolour flag, with the right- 
hand section again divided into three horizontally. 
Western Australia, South Australia, Queensland, New 
South Wales, Victoria — every square mile of the 
country is shown as belonging to one of them, and the 
map is fairly covered with the names of towns, moun- 
tains, rivers, springs, a desert or two, and some thirty 
lakes. If you turn back to the Atlas of sixty-five years 
ago, you see a very different state of things : the towns 
are there, most of them, like a fringe all round the coast 
line, but the vast centre of the map is almost a clean 
blank, the mountains are mostly invisible, the few lakes 
are of unrecognisable shapes, the courses of the rivers 
and creeks uncertain or incorrect. And from Menindie 
on the river Darling a tiny dotted trail is marked, 
running up a little way into the blank and ending there 
with the words c Sturt's furthest north, September, 
1845.' The central region was all unknown — a mys- 
terious land, a desert haunted by restless bands of 
aborigines, feeble wandering creatures, like the ghosts 
of lost children. It was this region that the Colony of 
Victoria determined to explore. 

The Committee organising the Expedition was 



154 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

presided over by the Chief Justice of the Colony, Sir 
William Stawell, a man of great ability and force of 
character. But they laid a train of misfortune by the 
very first step they took after appointing Robert 
Burke as leader : they gave him as second in command 
a Mr. Landells, who had successfully imported some 
camels from India to be used for the transport of the 
exploring party. Mr. Landells went only as far as 
Menindie, the place from which the real start was to 
be made, and there he resigned his appointment. The 
reason was simply irritation at finding that the rum, 
with which he had intended to dose his camels, was to 
be left behind by Mr. Burke's orders — a comical matter 
to quarrel over, but sometimes a comic beginning 
leads to a tragic end. The retirement of Landells 
necessitated two changes in the personnel of the ex- 
pedition : Mr. Wills, the third officer, became second 
in his place, and for third, Mr. Burke now appointed a 
man named Wright, who afterwards failed him lament- 
ably and was the chief cause of his disaster. But no 
one could foresee this, and Burke probably thought 
the new arrangement all to the good. His new second 
officer, William John Wills, was a Devonshire man, 
born at Totness in 1834 and educated as a doctor at 
St. Bartholomew's Hospital ; but being also devoted 
to astronomy he was induced to join the staff of the 
Observatory in Melbourne, and ended by volunteering 
to go as meteorologist with Burke's expedition. He 
was a man of character, patient, persevering and trust- 
worthy, and his medical knowledge was invaluable, for 
the German doctor Beckler, who was engaged as medical 
officer, turned tail at the last moment and absolutely 
refused to risk himself beyond the settled districts. 



BURKE AND WILLS 155 

The explorers then who left Menindie on October 19, 
I860, were nine in number : Burke, Wills, and Wright ; 
Brahe, who was also given the rank of officer ; four 
men named Patten, M'Donough, King, and Gray, and 
a sepoy, Dost Mohammed. They started with fifteen 
horses and sixteen camels, and travelled 200 miles 
easily in the first ten days, over a splendid grazing 
country. This brought them to Torowoto Swamp, 
more than halfway to Cooper's Creek, where they were 
to form their main depot. From Torowoto Wright was 
sent back to Menindie with orders to bring up the stores 
as rapidly as possible to Cooper's Creek. 

The expedition struck Cooper's Creek on Novem- 
ber 11, and moved along it for a couple of stages. 
They lost three camels which strayed away by night, 
but they were all in good spirits, planning their march 
right across the continent to the Gulf of Carpentaria 
on the northern coast, a distance of about 1100 miles 
from Menindie, and from Cooper's Creek 750, or nearly 
twice the length of England and Scotland. At last,, on 
December 16, Burke divided his men into two parties : 
Wills, King, and Gray were to make the great march 
with him, taking six camels and one horse, while 
Patten, M'Donough, and Dost Mohammed with six 
camels and twelve horses were to remain at the depot 
in charge of Brahe, until Burke's party returned, or 
their own provisions ran out ; but they were not to 
leave unless from absolute necessity. 

On the morning of the start the hopes of the ex- 
ploring party were high ; and they were destined to be 
splendidly fulfilled. But close upon the fulfilment was 
to follow the bitterest disappointment and a lingering 
death. To realise the greatness of what Burke and 



156 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

Wills achieved and the hardness of the fate by which 
they perished, it is necessary to keep clearly in mind 
the details of the plan upon which they were risking 
everj^thing. 

The distance before them was probably 1500 miles, 
out and back. Ninety days of marching at 17 miles 
a day would cover this, and the provisions for the 
journey were therefore calculated upon this basis. 
For three months there would be for each man a 
daily ration of one pound of damper (bread) or biscuit, 
three-quarters of a pound of dried meat, and a quarter 
pound of salt pork, with tea and sugar, and a quarter 
pound of boiled rice every second day. A small margin 
was taken, and if the time had to be extended to four 
months it was hoped that additional food might be 
found by the way. In four months then at the outside 
the explorers must be back at their depot at Cooper's 
Creek. There they would find Brahe and his party 
waiting for them ; and there also would be an ample 
store of provisions brought up from the base by Wright, 
who was expected to have made his first journey in 
support only two days after Burke left Cooper's Creek. 
However exhausted the explorers might be, if they could 
once get back to their depot, it could not be doubted 
that they would find their supports there, with food 
and transport in abundance. 

The outward journey was not only hopeful, but 
prosperous. The first incident was an encounter with 
a large tribe of blacks, who begged the white men to 
come to their camp and have a dance. They were very 
troublesome, but easily frightened away, for though 
fine-looking men, they were poor creatures ; the ex- 
plorers at this stage thought them ' mean-spirited 



BURKE AND WILLS 157 

and contemptible in every respect.' They lived by 
wandering among the creeks and waterholes, catching 
fish and gathering nardoo seeds ; their gins (squaws) 
and piccaninnies were camped in gunyahs or blanket- 
shelters. At other camps further on the blacks brought 
presents of fish to the explorers, who rewarded them 
with beads and matches. Sometimes a black would 
be seen climbing a tree, and digging out some kind of 
opossum from a hollow branch ; sometimes the travellers 
would find themselves tracked by silent followers, who 
watched them uncannily from among the box bushes, 
as haunting and as harmless as things in a nightmare. 
But no regrettable incidents occurred, and after march- 
ing for less than seven weeks the party had good reason 
to believe they were nearing the mouth of the Flinders 
river, which flows into the Gulf of Carpentaria. Burke 
and Wills pushed on for fifteen miles further, and 
though the swampy ground prevented them from 
actually reaching the coast, the saltness of the tidal 
water proved that they had succeeded in their first 
object — they had crossed the Australian continent 
from south to north, from sea to sea. 

But from this moment the luck turned against 
them. They had been eight weeks out when they 
reached their goal, they had used up more than half 
their provisions, and had had to abandon one of their 
camels ; it was necessary to quicken their pace on the 
return march, but from the very first they failed to 
do this. Rain made the ground so muddy that the 
camels could only do four or five miles a day ; three of 
them died, and were eaten by the explorers, who were 
already beginning to starve. Then Gray became ill, 
then King. The daily ration was reduced to a quarter 



158 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

pound of flour and a bit of dried camel meat, with the 
addition of a vegetable called portulac which they 
found here and there. Once they shot a pheasant, 
but it turned out to be more like a crow, all claws 
and feathers. Once they killed an enormous snake, 
but it was not good eating, and Burke was ill after 
dining on it. Worst of all, poor Gray, who was suffering 
from dysentery, lost his moral sense, and was found to 
be in the habit of stealing rations beyond his fair share. 
He was punished and forgiven ; but he was more and 
more ill, and at sunrise on April 17 he became speech- 
less, and died just as the party should have been starting. 
For a week past they had all been living solely on the 
dried flesh of their one horse, and taking it in turns 
to ride the two remaining camels ; they had still four 
days' marching before them and were extremely weak. 
But Gray's death moved them deeply, and they would 
not leave his body unburied. To dig a grave and lay 
him in it took them the whole of that day — and that 
day, as it turned out, was all the margin of life they 
had in hand. 

At the very moment when they started again on 
the 18th, Brahe, who was waiting for them at Cooper's 
Creek, and upon whom all their hopes depended, came 
to the end of his patience and his resolution. Patten, 
one of the men left with him, had long been ill with 
scurvy, and was continually begging to be taken back 
to Menindie. Wright, in all these months, had never 
brought up the fresh stores as he had been ordered to 
do. Brahe had always been afraid of the natives, 
nervous about the horses, and anxious for Burke's 
return. He used his imagination upon his own dangers 
and not upon those of the explorers, who were really 



BURKE AND WILLS 



159 



risking their lives. This very day he wrote in his diary 
c There is no probability of Mr. Burke returning this 
way.' A very short and easy reconnaissance to the 
north, and he would have met his starving leader ; but 




1 Taking it in turns to ride the two remaining camels.' 



he idly counted up the weeks, and came to the con- 
clusion that he need no longer play the game. On 
the morning of April 21 he buried some provisions, 
carved the word ' Dig ■ on a tree above them, put 
Patten on a quiet camel, and started for Menindie. 
Seven hours afterwards, Burke, Wills and King, after 



160 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

a forced march of thirty miles, came eagerly into the 
camp, and found it deserted. 

2. White Man and Black Man. 

Brahe in his retreat covered some eighty miles in 
eight days, and about daybreak on April 29 he ob- 
served smoke rising within three hundred yards. He 
supposed that he had dropped upon a camp of natives, 
but the man who came to meet him was a European. 
The place he had chanced upon was Bulloo, where 
Wright had established himself — apparently in com- 
plete idleness, for though only eighty miles from Cooper's 
Creek, he had never in all the eighteen weeks taken the 
trouble to bring up any clothes or provisions to the 
depot where Burke would be expecting to find them. 
He, like Brahe, was only longing for the moment of 
retreat ; he thought the natives were unfriendly and 
dangerous, and he had already packed up to go, when 
Brahe's party appeared and placed themselves under 
his orders. 

They all left Bulloo for Menindie on May 1. The 
day's entry in Wright's diary shows at one glance his 
slackness, his selfishness, and his timidity. ' I did not 
see the utility of pushing on the depot to Cooper's 
Creek for the purpose of remaining there the few weeks 
our stores would last. Our cavalcade made quite an 
imposing appearance with its twenty-two horses and 
fifteen camels, and the spirits of the whole party were 
animated by the prospect of regaining the settled 
districts . . . and to show that our departure was 
not unnoticed by the natives, fires sprang up at every 
mile of our progress until we reached Koorliatto, at a 
tolerably early hour in the afternoon.' 



BURKE AND WILLS 161 

He halted two days at Koorliatto, and his imagi- 
nation perhaps showed him pictures of the much less 
imposing cavalcade with which his leader was struggling 
along behind him, also animated by the desire of 
regaining the settled districts. At any rate on May 3 
he had a fit of uneasiness. 4 As I was anxious to 
ascertain, before finally leaving the country, whether 
Mr. Burke had visited the old depot at Cooper's Creek 
between the present date and that on which he left on 
his advance northward, or whether the stores cached 
there had been disturbed by the natives, I started with 
Mr. Brahe and three horses for Cooper's Creek.' 

It is the mistakes, the disloyalties, and the cross 
purposes which make this story so lamentable. Burke 
and Wills, as we know, had visited the dep6t, had 
taken provisions from their cache, and had started 
again on their terrible homeward journey by a route 
of which we shall hear presently. Wright and Brahe 
were fourteen days too late in their repentance ; they 
found an empty camp, stayed there ' not more than 
a quarter of an hour,' and rode away again. On the 
ground were camel tracks, but they took them for 
the old tracks of Brahe's party ; there were ashes 
of two or three fires, but they supposed them to have 
been made by blacks ; in the cache was a bottle with 
a message from Burke, but they did not dig it up — 
they thought the blacks might be watching them. They 
stayed a quarter of an hour, and rode away. This time 
they rode straight, with or without misgivings. In 
six weeks they reached Menindie, and by June 30 
Brahe was in Melbourne, delivering despatches to the 
Governor and Sir William Stawell. 

It was a Sunday, but a special meeting of the 

M 



162 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

Committee was held instantly. Sir William was hopeful, 
but pressed for the immediate despatch of a relief party. 
Someone proposed to adjourn till Monday ; Sir William 
was firm, ' All we know now is that four men whom we 
sent out require aid ; we can arrive at a resolution to 
send aid.' This resolution was passed, and two parties 
were sent out, one by steamer to the north, and one 
by land. 

The land party was in charge of Mr. Howitt ; he 
made his preparations rapidly, and achieved the only 
success that was still possible. By September 3 he 
was near Bulloo, and striking straight for Cooper's 
Creek. On the 6th he came on a party of natives ; 
some of them ran away, some waited for him, waving 
branches, and jabbering very excitedly. The only 
young man among them was trembling as if in terror. 
Howitt could get only one intelligible word from them, 
and that was ' Gow,' which means c Go on.' They 
offered an older man a knife, if he would guide them ; 
but he bolted up a tree, jabbering incessantly and 
pointing towards Cooper's Creek. 

On September 9 and 10 more natives were met 
with, but they also were unintelligible. On the 13th 
and 14th tracks of stray camels were seen, and on the 
15th some horse tracks and the handle of a clasp knife. 
Howitt now had strong hopes of picking up Burke's 
trail. In the afternoon he crossed a large reach of 
water and followed the track of a camel going up the 
creek. Soon afterwards he found a native who began 
to gesticulate in a very excited manner, pointing down 
the creek and bawling c Gow, gow ! ' as loud as he 
could. Howitt, finding that the man only ran away 
when he tried to approach him, turned back and crossed 



BURKE AND WILLS 



163 



the creek to rejoin his own party. In doing so, he 
came upon three pounds of tobacco, which had evidently 




* Waving branches, and jabbering very excitedly/ 



been lying for some time. This, together with the 
knife handle, the fresh horse tracks and the camel 
track going eastward, puzzled him extremely, and led 
him into a hundred conjectures. He could not guess 



164 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

the riddle ; but the answer was not far off, and before 
the end of this day of hopes and fears and mysteries 
he found it. At the lower end of the reach of water 
which he had recrossed he saw two of his own men 
coming to meet him. Evidently they had news for 
him, but he could not tell whether good or bad. It was 
in fact both good and bad. King had been found ; 
but he was the only survivor of Burke's advance party. 
Howitt went forward, to where the rest of his men 
were halted, walked across to the blacks' camp close 
by, and there found King sitting in a hut which the 
natives had made for him. He was wasted to a shadow, 
with only remnants of civilised clothing upon him, and 
so weak that what he said could hardly be understood. 
The natives, childish as ever, but kindly in their childish- 
ness, were all gathered round him, seated on the ground, 
looking on c with a most gratified and delighted ex- 
pression ' to see their guest greeted by his friends at 
last. For more than a month they had fed and tended 
him as if he had been one of themselves. 

3. The Last March 

We must now go back to Burke and Wills and tell 
their story to the end. It is a painful story, but the 
pain is almost lost in so fine a record of conduct. These 
two suffered betrayal and a lingering death in the 
desert ; but they met their fate without complaining 
or despair. They were plain men, not giants or figures 
of romance ; but they gave a shining example of how 
men may play the game to the last, faithful to each 
other and to their purpose, even when others have 
failed them. Best of all, they suffered and died with- 
out leaving one word of bitterness behind them. 



BURKE AND WILLS 165 

We know all that we could desire to know of their 
last adventure : we have Burke's notes, Wills's diary, 
and King's narrative, and all three agree, except for 
one trivial error in a date. From King we learn that 
the party reached Cooper's Creek in a state of complete 
exhaustion after their forced march of thirty miles. 
c It was as much as one of them could do to crawl to 
the side of the creek for a billy of water.' Burke him- 
self seemed for a time ' too excited to do anything.' 
Naturally : he was the responsible leader, he saw his 
whole plan ruined by Brahe's desertion, and being the 
most imaginative of the three he realised in a moment 
of terrible insight the fate which lay almost inevitably 
before them. 

It was Wills who first set about the business of 
searching for some indication of what had really hap- 
pened. Scattered about the place he found certain 
articles which would not have been thrown away if 
Brahe's party had been merely changing station for 
a time. Looking more closely he saw an inscription 
cut upon a tree—' DIG. 21 April, 1861.' He ex- 
claimed, ' They have left here to-day ! ' and imme- 
diately set to work with King to dig beneath the tree. 
A few inches underground they came upon a box of 
provisions — all that Brahe had been able to leave them 
— and a bottle containing a letter, which was eagerly 
handed to Burke and read aloud by him : 

Depot, Cooper's Creek, April 21, 1861. 

The depot party of V.E.E. leaves this camp to-day 
to return to the Darling (river). I intend to go S.E. 
from Camp 60, to get into our old track near Bulloo. 
Two of my companions and myself are quite well ; 



166 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

the third — Patten — has been unable to walk for the 
last 18 days, as his leg has been severely hurt when 
thrown by one of the horses. No person has been up 
here from the Darling. We have six horses and twelve 
camels in good working condition. 

William Brahe. 

This was a fresh blow for the deserted three : they 
knew now where the other party were, but the message 
took away all hope of being able to overtake them. 
Brahe and Co. had a day's start, they were in good 
health, and abundantly supplied with transport. 
Three half-starved men with two dead-beat camels 
would be left further and further behind every day. 
They could not guess that Brahe would meet Wright 
at Bulloo, or that a pang of conscience would drive 
them both back to Cooper's Creek within a fortnight. 
No, the explorers felt that they were left to themselves 
and must make their own way out. Their first decision 
was to rest for a day or two, and recruit their strength 
with the food they had found, before they started on 
their last lonely march by whatever route seemed best. 
Their undefeated courage is shown by the day's entry 
in Wills 's diary : 

Arrived at the depot this evening, just in time to 
find it deserted. A note left in the plant by Brahe 
communicates the pleasing information that they have 
started to-day for the Darling : their camels and horses 
all well and in good condition. We and our camels 
being just done up and scarcely able to reach the 
depot, have very little chance of overtaking them. 
. . . These provisions, together with a few horseshoes 
and nails and odds and ends, constitute all the articles 
left, and place us in a very awkward position in respect 



BURKE AND WILLS 167 

to clothing. Our disappointment at finding the dep6t 
deserted may easily be imagined — returning in an ex- 
hausted state, after 4 months of the severest travelling 
and privation, our legs almost paralysed, so that each 
of us found it a most trying task only to walk a few 
yards. Such a leg-bound feeling I never before 
experienced and I hope never shall again. . . . We 
were not long in getting out the grub that Brahe had 
left, and we made a good supper off some oatmeal 
porridge and sugar. This, together with the excitement 
of finding ourselves^ in such a peculiar and almost 
unexpected position, had a wonderful effect in removing 
the stiffness from our legs. 

The ' almost unexpected position ' perhaps refers 
to the discovery of the provisions after the first dis- 
appointing moments. Wills was under the impression 
that they had now c ample to take us to the bounds of 
civilisation.' Not that they could attempt to overtake 
Brahe, but Burke had quickly recast his plans, and now 
proposed to make for a range towards the S.W. — it 
was called by the ominous name of ' Mount Hopeless,' 
but not far from it was Mount Searle, one of the regular 
South Australian police stations, and the whole distance 
was only about 150 miles, or less than half the distance 
to Menindie. 

Two days later then they started, after Burke had 
written the following letter and deposited it in the bottle 
under the tree with the word ' DIG ' carved upon it. 

Depot No. 2, Cooper's Creek, Camp 65. 

The return party from Carpentaria, consisting of 
myself, Wills and King (Gray dead), arrived here last 
night, and found that the depot party had only started 
on the same day. We proceed to-morrow slowly down 



168 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

the creek towards Adelaide, by Mount Hopeless, but 
we are very weak. The two camels are done up, and 
we shall not be able to travel faster than 4 or 5 miles 
a day. Gray died on the road, from exhaustion and 
fatigue. We have all suffered much from hunger. 
The provisions left here will, I think, restore our strength. 
We have discovered a practicable route to Carpentaria. 
There is some good country between this and the Stony 
Desert. From there to the tropics the country is dry 
and stony. Between the tropics and Carpentaria 
a considerable portion is rangy, but is well watered 
and richly grassed. We reached the shores of Car- 
pentaria on the 11th of February, 1861. Greatly 
disappointed at finding the party were gone. 

Robert O'Hara Burke, Leader. 
April 22, 1861. 

P.S. — The camels cannot travel and we cannot 
walk, or we should follow the other party. We shall 
move very slowly down the creek. 

There is always something moving, something 
significant, about letters and diaries like those quoted 
above — messages thrown as it were into the air by 
lost men who will never see their friends again and 
cannot even tell if their record will ever come to hand. 
The specially notable thing about these messages is 
their unembittered tone. They are gentle men, these 
two : they say quite naturally that they were greatly 
disappointed, but they neither curse their fate, nor fear 
it overmuch. Above all they leave no angry reproach 
or accusation against those who brought their disaster 
upon them. They were unfortunate, but not unhappy, 
and there is no more honourable strength than that. 

Their new effort began almost cheerfully ; as long 
as their provisions lasted they found the change of 



BURKE AND WILLS 169 

diet made a great improvement in their spirits and 
force. But they remark that the nights are very chilly 
from their deficiency in clothing. Still they were doing 
their five miles a day and getting fish from friendly 
natives, when their transport animals both broke 
down in succession. First the camel Linda on the 
sixth day's march got bogged near a waterhole and 
could not be got out. The ground was a bottomless 
quicksand, through which the poor tired beast sank 
so rapidly that it was impossible to get bushes or timber 
fairly beneath him, and he would make no real effort 
towards extricating himself. In the evening, after 
spending the whole day in vain attempts, the travellers 
as a last chance let the water in from the creek, so as 
to buoy the animal up and soften the ground about his 
legs. But Linda was not to be roused ; he 6 lay quietly 
in it as if he quite enjoyed his position, 5 and next morning 
he was shot and converted into dried meat. Three 
days later the other camel, Rajah, showed signs of 
giving out, trembling all over, and stiffening at night. 
Another week and he had shared Linda's fate. 

Meanwhile Burke and Wills had been wandering 
about in search of fresh food supplies, for time was 
running heavily against them now. Twice they found 
black men fishing, and were most hospitably entertained 
by them with fish, rats baked in their skins, and cakes 
made of pounded nardoo seeds. Burke determined to 
find out where he and his companions could find nardoo 
for themselves, and how to trap rats. But when he 
tried to meet the blacks again he failed to find them ; 
they were constantly on the move. 

He decided, therefore, that a fresh attempt must be 
made to march towards Mount Hopeless. All three of 



170 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

the travellers were now terribly tired, they had to 
march on foot, and their daily ration was much reduced. 
But no sooner had they started than they had a gleam 
of good luck : at the foot of a sandhill King caught 
sight, in the flat, of some nardoo seeds, and soon found 
that the whole flat was covered with them. c This 
discovery, 5 says Wills, c caused somewhat of a revolution 
in our feelings, for we considered that with the know- 
ledge of this plant we were in a position to support 
ourselves, even if we were destined to remain on the 
creek and wait for assistance from town.' Unhappily 
the nardoo was not so nutritious a diet as they imagined : 
it needed to be supplemented by fat of some kind, and 
as they could not get that they began to starve slowly. 

A week later they were mocked by another momen- 
tary gleam of hope. It was May 24, and Wills had gone 
out with King ' to celebrate the Queen's birthday by 
fetching from Nardoo Creek what is now to us the 
staff of life.' While picking the seed, about 11 a.m. 
both the men heard distinctly the noise of an explosion, 
as of a gun, at a considerable distance. They supposed 
it to be a shot fired by Burke ; but on returning to the 
camp they found that he had neither fired a shot nor 
heard one. Yet there could have been no mistake ; 
a gunshot is a sound everyone knows, both Wills and 
King had heard it, and there was nothing to indicate 
a thunderstorm in any direction. 

This mysterious occurrence probably had some 
weight in their decision to stay where they were, rather 
than try again to crawl towards Mount Hopeless. Burke 
took the precaution of sending Wills back up the creek 
to the depot, to place a note there, stating that they 
were now living on the creek. This was very necessary, 



BURKE AND WILLS 171 

for the note they had left stated that they were marching 
for Adelaide by way of Mount Hopeless. Wills set out 
on May 27, with the new note and his journals ; he 
carried some nardoo, and was liberally helped by some 
natives on the way. On the 30th he reached the 
depot ; Wright and Brahe, as we know, had been there 
three weeks before, but their visit of a quarter of an 
hour had left no trace whatever. Wills wrote on this 
day his last letter, and deposited it with his journals 
in the cache : 

Depot Camp, May 30. 

We have been unable to leave the Creek. Both 
camels are dead, and our provisions are done. Mr. 
Burke and King are down the lower part of the creek. I 
am about to return to them, when we shall probably 
come up this way. We are trying to live the best way 
we can, like the blacks, but find it hard work. Our 
clothes are going to pieces fast. Send provisions and 
clothes %s soon as possible. 

W. J. Wills. 

The depot party having left, contrary to instructions, 
has put us in this fix. I have deposited some of my 
journals here, for fear of accidents. W. J. W. 

He left again the same afternoon, and on his way 
back stayed with the blacks in their camp, ' intending 
to test the practicability of living with them. 5 He 
found that they had kept Burke and King well supplied 
with fish in his absence, and when he rejoined his friends 
they all agreed to move camp to be nearer these friendly 
natives. But they were all three very weak now, and 
when they had crawled to the place the blacks had once 
more vanished. 



172 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

By June 21, Burke and Wills were losing the power 
of walking ; they sat all day pounding the nardoo 
which King was still able to bring in. The end was 
in sight. Wills wrote in his diary : 

Unless relief comes I cannot possibly last more than 
a fortnight. It is a great consolation, at least, in this 
position of ours, to know that we have done all we 
could, and that our deaths will be the result of the mis- 
management of others rather than of any rash acts of our 
own. Had we come to grief elsewhere, we could only have 
blamed ourselves ; but here we are, returned to Cooper's 
Creek where we had every reason to look for provisions 
and clothing : and yet we have to die of starvation, in 
spite of the explicit instructions given by Mr. Burke 
that the depot party should await our return, and the 
strong recommendation to the Committee that we should 
be followed up by a party from Menindie. 

This is the only word of anything like complaint 
written by these starving men, and it is put down as 
a ' consolation,' a defence of themselves rather than a 
charge against others. Wills was in no complaining 
mood, as may be seen from the very last entry in his 
journal, written when Burke and King were driven 
to leave him for a day or two and make a last attempt 
to find the natives. 

Friday, June 28. — Clear cold night : day beautifully 
warm and pleasant. Mr. Burke suffers greatly from 
the cold and is getting extremely weak. He and King 
start to-morrow up the creek to look for the blacks : 
it is the only chance we have of being saved from 
starvation. (They have both shown great hesitation 
and reluctance with regard to leaving me, and have 
repeatedly desired my candid opinion in the matter.) 



BURKE AND WILLS 173 

I am weaker than ever, although I have a good appetite 
and relish the nardoo much ; but it seems to give us 
no nutriment. . . . Nothing now but the greatest 
good luck can save any of us ; and as for myself, I may 
live four or five days if the weather continues warm. 
My pulse is at 48 and very weak, and my legs and arms 
are nearly skin and bone. I can only look out, like 
Mr. Micawber, ' for something to turn up.' Starvation 
on nardoo is by no means very unpleasant, but for the 
weakness one feels, and the utter inability to move 
oneself ; for as far as appetite is concerned, it gives me 
the greatest satisfaction . . . but the want of sugar and 
fat in all substances obtainable here is so great that 
they become almost valueless to us as articles of food, 
without the addition of something else. 

When Wills wrote this passage of quiet humour 
and scientific observation he knew that it was the end 
of his journal, for he signed it with his name. Next 
morning Burke and King said goodbye, and he was 
seen no more alive. 

Burke too was dying, but he was a man of tremendous 
energy and will power, and he thought he had a chance 
of saving his companions. The first day he made 
a good march : but on June 30 he broke down at 
the second mile. All that day — the very Sunday on 
which Sir William Stawell was so urgent on the sending 
of a relief expedition — Burke was making effort after 
effort to find a rescue party for his friend. ' Every step 
in advance was a chance for Mr. Wills ' ; he threw his 
swag away, and struggled on ; c he walked till he 
dropped. 5 At night King shot a crow, and they made 
their last meal together. 

A little later Burke told King to give his watch and 
pocket-book to Sir William Stawell, and asked him 



174 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

to stay with him till he was quite dead, then to place 
his pistol, given him by friends, in his right hand, and 
leave him unburied as he lay. During the night he 
wrote with a firm hand a farewell to his sister, and at 
dawn he died. 

King obeyed his last wishes and wandered on, 
then back to the depot where he found Wills lying dead. 
He buried the body in sand, and immediately afterwards 
succeeded in tracking the natives. They evidently 
knew of Wills's death, and appeared to feel great com- 
passion for King when they understood that he was now 
alone on the creek. But like children they alternately 
got tired of him and again heaped him with attentions. 
Like children too they were very anxious to know where 
Burke lay dead, and one day King took them to the 
spot. On seeing the lonely body the whole party wept 
bitterly, and covered it with bushes. After that they 
were much kinder than ever before, and in the evenings, 
when they came with fish and nardoo, they used to 
talk about the ' white fellows ' coming, and point to 
the moon, for King had told them that white men 
would come for him before two moons. At last one day, 
one of them came back from fishing and told him that 
the ' white fellows ' were near, and the whole tribe 
then sallied out in every direction to meet the party. 

King took only two days to recover his strength. 
Before starting homeward he and Mr. Howitt invited 
the whole tribe of blacks to come over to the white 
men's camp and receive presents as an acknowledg- 
ment of their kindness. They came in a long pro- 
cession, men, women and piccaninnies, bawling as 
usual at the top of their voices. The presents were 
tomahawks, knives, necklaces, looking glasses, and 



BURKE AND WILLS 175 

combs. 'I think, ' says Howitt, c no people were ever 
so happy before ; they pointed out one or another who 
they thought might be overlooked. The piccaninnies 
were brought forward by their parents to have red 
ribbon tied round their dirty little heads . . . and 
they left making signs expressive of friendship. 5 Next 
day the white men were on their homeward way. 

So ended the Victorian Exploring Expedition, and 
few adventures have ever stirred more profoundly the 
feelings of the worldwide British race. Besides their 
fame, the memory of the two leaders received every 
possible honour : in Melbourne a public monument and 
a resolution of both Houses of Parliament ; in London 
the medal of the Royal Geographical Society and a 
special despatch from the Secretary of State for the 
Colonies. 6 I am fully sensible,' he wrote, 'of the 
advantages which their dearly bought success will 
confer on geographical science and on their Australian 
fellow-colonists, and I gladly embrace this opportunity 
of expressing the admiration which I feel for the spirit 
of enterprise in which their task was undertaken, 
the perseverance w T ith which it was pursued, and the 
patience and mutual fidelity which, even to the unhappy 
termination of their labours, appear never to have 
forsaken them.' 



VI. FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 
1. A Boy's Will 

A boy's will is the wind's will, 

And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts. 

Francis Edward Younghusband was born in 1863 
at Murree, a hill station on the north-west frontier 
of India, some forty miles beyond Rawal Pindi. His 
father, Major- General John William Younghusband, be- 
longed to an old Northumbrian family which has given 
many good men to the military and naval services of 
India and England; his mother was sister to Robert 
Shaw, the explorer, who with Hayward was the first 
Englishman to push his way right through the Himalayas 
to the plains of Turkestan beyond. By inheritance and 
tradition, he was marked out for a soldier or an explorer. 
In 1876, before he was thirteen, he went to school 
at Clifton, where he spent nearly five years among a 
set of contemporaries of whom many were destined to 
make a name in very various careers. A number of 
them were training for military service, and of these 
no less than four lived to hold high command during 
the Great War, as Sir Douglas Haig, Sir William 
Birdwood, Sir David Campbell, and Sir George Young- 
husband. Frank, too, chose the Army, and in 1882 
got his commission in the King's Dragoon Guards; 
but when he had been three years in the service, for 

176 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 177 

which he had every kind of qualification, his whole 
career was changed by a cause which arose suddenly 
from within himself and overpowered all other influences. 
It was in 1884, he says, that the first seeds of this change 
were sown. He had obtained a few months' leave 
from his regiment, which was then stationed at Rawal 
Pindi, and this leave was spent in touring through 
some of the lower ranges of the Himalayas. By a 
natural instinct he went first to Dharmsala, for many 
years the home of his uncle, Robert Shaw. c Here,* 
he says, ' I was among the relics of an explorer, at the 
very house in which he had planned his explorations, 
and from which he had started to accomplish them. 
I pored over the books and maps, and talked for hours 
with the old servants, till the spirit of exploration 
gradually entered my soul, and I rushed off on a pre- 
liminary tour on foot, in the direction of Tibet.' 

From the very first moment of this impulse it was 
clear that he had found the romance of his life. He 
was wholly given up to the passion of travel, enchanted 
with the scenery of such valleys as those of Kangra 
and Kulu, excited by the thought of crossing his first 
snow pass, and loving a tramp merely for its own sake. 
One march a day was not enough for him : he made 
two regularly, and sometimes three : he wanted to go 
everywhere in his two months' leave. He came back 
with the exploring fever thoroughly on him, and was 
lucky in being sent almost at once on a reconnaissance 
up the Indus and towards the Afghan frontier. When 
he returned from this, he was ordered to revise the 
4 Gazetteer ' of the Kashmir frontier, and so became 
familiar with all the approaches to the mysterious land 
of Yarkand and Kashgar, of which he had read in the 



178 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

old house at Dharmsala, where his uncle before him 
had thought the same thoughts and planned the like 
expeditions. 

Adventures are to the adventurous, says the proverb, 
and it is often seen that when a man has once devoted 
himself to a pursuit, opportunities spring up in front 
of him. By mere chance Frank found himself one 
evening at a dinner party at Simla, talking to Mr. 
H. E. M. James, then Director- General of the Post 
Office in India, and a confirmed tramp. The magic 
words ' Yarkand ' and c Kashgar ' made them friends 
on the spot. Soon afterwards, on a Sunday afternoon, 
Mr. James walked in and asked Younghusband if he 
would go a journey with him. He did not say what 
the journey was to be, but to make a journey anywhere 
was good enough for Frank. c I remember/ he says, 
6 sitting that afternoon in church at Simla and looking 
up the rows of people, thinking how every man amongst 
them would wish to be in my place : for at that time 
I thought that everybody must necessarily want to 
make a journey if he could only get a chance. 5 It is 
probable that among British boys of twenty-one a 
large proportion would be of this way of thinking, and 
still more probable that even now Sir Francis Young- 
husband keeps the same belief at the bottom of his 
heart. 

The two travellers decided upon China for their 
country, and for their objective they chose a mountain 
famous in Chinese legends — the Chang-pai-shan, or 
■ Ever- White Mountain, 5 which had only once been 
visited by Europeans, and that was in 1709. On 
March 19, 1886, James and Younghusband sailed from 
Calcutta, and on May 19 they started inland from the 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 179 

treaty port of Newchwang, travelling in little tandem 
mule-carts with their legs dangling over the shafts and 
their baggage heaped up behind. At Mukden, the 
capital of Manchuria, they exchanged these for a cara- 
van of mules, and set out towards the Yalu River. 

The buildings of the country, especially the temples, 
were tawdry and flimsy, the people strong and hard- 
working, with enormous appetites. But their customs 
were uncomfortable. 6 The Chinese and Manchus never 
milk their cows . . . they will eat rats and dogs, but 
they will not drink milk, and we missed this simple 
necessary very much.' On the other hand the scenery 
was hilly and extremely beautiful : the woods were 
of oak and elm trees, such as are common in England 
but unknown in India. The valleys were filled with 
thriving little villages, and the quantity of ferns and 
wild flowers was extraordinary. Mr. James was making 
a botanical collection, and found in one day five kinds 
of lily of the valley, several maidenhair varieties — 
one especially lovely, in shape like a spiral bowl — 
besides lilies, violets, anemones, and other familiar 
English flowers. It was, they thought, ' a perfect 
little country. 5 

The river Yalu, where they struck it, was 300 yards 
wide and 10 to 15 feet deep ; it was covered to the 
water's edge with forests, broken only by occasional 
meadows, dense with flowers — lilies, purple irises, and 
columbines in waving sheets of colour. Rafts drifted 
quietly down this great river, while the travellers had 
to plod laboriously through the forest up stream. Day 
after day they toiled over the ridges, simply swamped 
in forest and seeing nothing but the trunks of trees, 
forcing a way for their mules, eaten all day by midges 



180 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

and gadflies and all night by mosquitos. At last they 
crossed the Yalu at Tang-ho-kou, and turned up the 
valley of the Sungari River into the heart of the forest 
which surrounds the Ever- White Mountain. Here they 
did fifteen to twenty miles a day through incessant 
bogs and on very scanty rations : moreover they 
had to abandon their mules and carry the provisions 
themselves. 

After four days of this work the forest opened out 
and they saw with infinite relief the mountain they 
were seeking. It was only some 8000 feet high after 
all, but ' what it lacked in grandeur was made up for 
in beauty, for its sides were covered with the most 
exquisite meadows and copses. In Kashmir there are 
many beautiful meadows, but none to compare with 
those of the Ever- White Mountain.' Among scattered 
and stately fir-trees were masses of ferns, irises, tiger- 
lilies, columbines, gentians, buttercups, azaleas, and 
orchids, all in their freshest bloom. The mountain 
itself had two rugged peaks, with a saddle between 
them and open slopes below covered with long grass 
and dwarf azaleas, heather, yellow poppies, and gentians. 
But the great surprise of all came when the travellers 
reached the saddle and saw, not a wide panorama, 
but i a most beautiful lake in a setting of weird fantastic 
cliffs ' just at their feet. They were in fact on an 
extinct volcano ; what had once been its fiery crater 
was now a lake of a peculiarly deep blue, six or seven 
miles round, and out of it flowed the main branch of 
the Sungari — a magnificent river excelled by few others 
in the world. It was impossible to climb down the 
volcanic cliffs to the lake, but Younghusband succeeded 
in reaching the summit of the highest peak and looking 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 181 

over the endless forests of Corea. He also found the 
secret of the Ever- White Mountain : it was white, not 
with snow, but with pumice-stone thrown up by the 
old volcano. This and its flowers and its wonderful 
solitary lake made it more remarkable than many 
snow mountains. 

The travellers now regained their mules and marched 
to Kirin, where they rested for three weeks ; then on 
September 3, still north by the Sungari to Tsitsihar, 
then east to Sansing, then south to Ninguta and to 
Hunchun, where Russian, Chinese, and Corean territory 
meet. Winter was now upon them, and with the 
thermometer at 11° Fahrenheit they hurried back 
through Kirin to Newchwang, which they reached 
on December 19, just seven months after they had 
started out from it. There they parted with regret : 
Mr. James went to Port Arthur and Japan, Young- 
husband by land to Tientsin and Peking, full of gratitude 
to his first travelling companion and travel teacher, 
and of eager desire to make fresh use of the experience 
he had gained. 

2. Through the Great Wall 

At Peking Frank stayed with Sir John and Lady 
Walsham in the British Legation, an old palace with 
large and fine rooms in which his kind hosts were 
constantly giving brilliant entertainments. But he 
was ready for any fresh adventure, and he had not 
long to wait. News came that Col. M. S. Bell, V.C., 
of the Royal Engineers, was to come to Peking and 
travel right across to India. Directly he arrived 
Frank asked to be allowed to accompany him. Colonel 
Bell at once consented, but as he himself was employed 



182 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

on Intelligence work and must go by the best and most 
populous route, he suggested that they should travel 
separately so that Frank could explore the more remote 
regions of Mongolia and Turkestan. This was evidently 
the best opportunity for a young traveller, if he did not 
mind making his way alone through thousands of miles 
of desert and mountain, by a track never trodden by 
any other European. So while Sir John Walsham 
telegraphed to Lord Dufferin about Lieutenant Young- 
husband's leave of absence from his regiment, the two 
travellers mapped out their routes, and agreed to 
rendezvous at Hami, the other side of the great Gobi 
Desert, and nearly 2,000 miles from the start. Colonel 
Bell then went off, and Frank saw no more of him, for 
he was a very rapid and efficient traveller, and had the 
reputation of never waiting more than three-quarters 
of an hour for any man. As a matter of fact he reached 
Hami three weeks before Frank, but he assured him 
afterwards that he had waited for him there a whole 
day, and was astonished that he did not arrive in time* 
He was no doubt joking, for the direct route across 
the Gobi Desert was beyond his power to estimate. 
No one in Peking could be found to give any informa- 
tion about it, or about the state of the country on the 
other side ; there was no knowing how a solitary 
European traveller would be likely to be received there. 
It was a real plunge into the unknown. ' Had but 
one traveller gone through before me/ Frank wrote 
afterwards, c had I even now with me a companion 
upon whom I could rely, or one good servant whom I 
could trust to stand by me, the task would have seemed 
easy in comparison. 5 But he was all his life to be 
distinguished by indomitable self-reliance, and he took 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 183 

his plunge with only two Chinese servants, of whom one 
turned back when he came to the edge of the desert. 
The other, the faithful Liu-san, interpreter, cook, table 
servant, groom, and carter, was always willing to face 
the difficulties of the road ; he went right through to 
India and earned his master's confidence and gratitude. 
The journey began on April 4, 1887. For the first 
two weeks Younghusband rode, with the baggage 
following in carts. The day after leaving Peking he 
passed through the inner branch of the Great Wall of 
China at the Nankou Gate, and two days later he came 
to the outer branch at Kalgan. This was not his 
first sight of the Great Wall, for it runs down to the sea 
at Shan-hai-Kuan, through which he had passed on 
the march from Newchwang to Tientsin. That section 
of it was wonderful, in fact one of the wonders of the 
world. Imagine a line of hills, running from far 
inland down to the coast, and all along these heights, 
as far as the eye could reach, this huge wall 4 going down 
the side of one hill, up the next, over its summit and 
down the other side again, then at the end coming finally 
down and plunging right into the sea, till the waves 
washed the end of it.' And such a wall too : ' a 
regular castle wall, such as they built in the Middle 
Ages round their strongest castles, thirty or forty feet 
high, of solid stone, and fifteen feet or so thick, wide 
enough for two carriages to drive abreast on it, with 
towers every few hundred yards.' At first sight it 
seemed to Younghusband almost more wonderful than 
the Pyramids of Egypt, and it certainly surpasses all 
that is left of the Roman Wall in England. But the 
race that built the Chinese Wall were never able to 
back it with troops of a courage and discipline like 



184 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

that of the Roman legions : they had not even the power 
or the resources to finish their gigantic work in a style 
worthy of its beginning. By the time it reached the 
desert it had become a mere pretence, a bogey rather 
than a fortification. Younghusband describes it here 
as only twenty feet high, made of mud, with mud-built 
towers at intervals of half a mile : crumbling to pieces 
and with large gaps in it. The gate was of rough wood, 
with two old guns fastened on to a piece of timber. 
All this is quite what might be expected from the 
Chinese : they can plan, but they cannot finish or 
preserve. At Shan-hai-Kuan they had modern forts 
armed with Krupp guns, and provided with a German 
non-commissioned officer as instructor ; but he could 
not persuade them to look after the mechanism of these 
highly finished guns, which, as he told Younghusband, 
were perishing for want of care. 

On April 10 the little expedition started again from 
Kalgan, supplied with carters and stores. They left 
the great Peking-to-Siberia caravan route and ascended 
the broad valley of the Yang-ho, passed finally through 
the Great Wall, and entered what Marco Polo calls 
* the land of Gog and Magog. 5 On the morning of the 
14th they emerged on to the vast grassy plain of Mon- 
golia, It was just a rolling sea of grass, without islands 
or shores in any direction : only here and there far- 
away groups of small dots could be seen, which when 
at last approached were found to be herds of camels 
and cattle. There were deer too, in small herds ; geese 
and duck passed overhead, and larks rose and fell, 
singing as in England on the morning air. In this 
immense plain the only human habitations are the 
yurts or felt tents of the Mongols : very clean and 




' He passed through the inner branch of the Great Wall,* 



186 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

neat dwellings, dome-shaped, with a central fireplace 
and over it a latticed hole in the roof : boxes and 
cupboards all round the sides, and at one end some vases 
and images of Buddha. The comfort of these tents and 
the cream he got there charmed Younghusband, and 
he loved the vast open country and the wild animals. 
8 Altogether,' he says, ' this was one of those bright 
days which throw all the hardships of travel far away 
into the shade and make the traveller feel that the 
net result of all is the highest enjoyment. The shadows 
have only served to show up the light and bring out 
more clearly the attractions of a free roving life.' 

3. Across the Great Desert of Gobi 

On April 17 Younghusband reached Kwei-hwa- 
Cheng, and began his preparations for crossing the 
desert to Hami. These consisted mainly in engaging 
a guide and eight camels, and fixing an auspicious 
day for the start. The Chinese Almanac was unfavour- 
able to the 23rd, 24th, or 25th, but the 26th was at last 
decided on as a thoroughly fortunate day. Young- 
husband said good-bye to his European friends and 
launched himself upon the Gobi with only three com- 
panions ; there should have been four, but Chang- 
san, the interpreter, could not face the desert when the 
moment came. The three were as follows : first the 
guide and camel-man, ' a doubled-up little man, whose 
eyes were not generally visible, though they sometimes 
beamed out from behind his wrinkles and pierced 
one like a gimlet. He was a wonderful man — the way 
in which he remembered where the wells were, at each 
march in the desert, was simply marvellous. He would 
be fast asleep on the back of a camel, leaning right over 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 187 

with his head resting on the camel's hump, or dangling 
about beside it, when he would suddenly wake up, 
look first at the stars, by which he could tell the time 
to a quarter of an hour, and then at as much of the 
country as he could see in the dark. After a time he 
would turn the camel off the track a little, and sure 
enough we would find ourselves at a well.' 

Then there was a Mongol assistant, by name Ma- 
te-la, ' a careless good-natured fellow, always whistling 
or singing, and bursting out into roars of laughter, 
especially at any little mishap.' He had to work 
prodigiously hard : to walk the whole march, leading 
the first camel, then to unload, pitch tents, and scour 
the country for fuel, sleep among the camels and take 
them out at dawn to graze, snatch a meal himself, 
round up and drive in the camels again, load up and 
start. He refused an offer of a mount, because he said 
the guide would give him no wages if he rode. 

The third was the Chinese ; boy,' Liu-san : the only 
one who knew a few words of English. At first Young- 
husband, not knowing how far he could trust him, 
gave him a revolver to inspire awe in the natives, but 
without cartridges ; afterwards he loaded it for him 
and told him that he had the most complete confidence 
in him. The plan answered well ; Liu-san showed the 
revolver to everyone he met and told them that though 
he himself could only kill about twenty at a time, his 
master was bristling all over with much more deadly 
instruments. He really did believe in Younghusband, 
in a way of his own : ' I think master belong big gentle- 
man : no belong small man.' He meant that his 
master was a great man, though crazy enough to 
wander the desert instead of staying at home ; and 



188 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 



he used to add, c I think master got big heart : Chinese 
mandarin no do this. 5 And there he was entirely 
right. 

This little caravan of four men and eight camels 




' Ma-te-la had to walk, leading the first camel.' 

began by plodding for fourteen days through an 
undulating country dotted with Mongol temples and 
tombs. On May 7 they emerged on to an extensive 
plain, and on the 8th they met for the first and only 
time a caravan coming from the West. It was sixty 
days out from Guchen ; the 150 camels were mostly 
unladen, but several carried boxes of silver. After this 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 189 

the route lay by a spur of volcanic hills ; the country 
became more and more barren, streams disappeared 
and water could only be got from water-holes dug by 
former travellers in the waste. The plain seemed to 
be infinitely vast, and the tiny caravan to have no 
chance of ever getting across it. 

The travellers usually started about 5 p.m. and 
marched until midnight, so as to avoid the heat of 
the day. During these long and dreary stages, Young- 
husband on his slow silent camel managed to read and 
even to write ; but after sunset this was no longer 
possible — the march went on by starlight until the 
guide gave the signal to halt, and the camels sighed 
with relief as they sank to the ground. For ten whole 
weeks this monotonous routine went on ; the saving 
point was the beauty of the nights, for the stars shone 
with a brilliance such as Younghusband had never 
seen, even in the Himalayas, and the Milky Way was 
like a bright phosphorescent cloud. The days were 
often disagreeable, with winds and heavy rain. 

On May 20 and 21 Younghusband passed through 
the district known as the Galpin Gobi, and crossed the 
track of the traveller Prjevalsky, who wrote of it, ' This 
desert is so terrible that in comparison with it the 
deserts of Northern Tibet may be called fruitful.' 
But Younghusband got safely through, and reached 
the Bortson Well on the 22nd. That evening one of 
his camels broke loose, threw its load (luckily), and 
bolted into the darkness ; but among the Hurku hills 
he was able to buy two fresh ones from a Mongol yurt. 
On the 23rd he was overtaken and passed by a caravan 
of 140 camels, carrying clothes, boots, and rifles to 
Guchen. 



190 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

On June 3 a terrific dust-storm blew up suddenly 
from the west, and the travellers had to dismount and 
lie at full length behind the baggage. Fortunately 
they were on a gravel plain with no sand to drift over 
them ; but the small pebbles were driven hard against 




* Liu -San showed the revolver to everyone he met/ 



them and hurt them considerably. Two days after- 
wards they reached the sandhills, a most remarkable 
range called Hun-kua-ling, forty miles in length, a heap 
of white fantastically shaped hills rising to 900 feet, 
and without a trace of vegetation upon them. Beyond 
lay another sand range between two ranges of rock ; 
the plain below was covered with tamarisk bushes, but 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 191 

their roots were all laid bare by the wind, which ' seemed 
to have fought with and rent the very surface of the 
land, and the scene is one of indescribable confusion.' 

On June 8, towards dark, after passing through the 
sandhills, the caravan was approaching another low 
range of hills, when the guide halted and advised 
Younghusband to get out his revolver, as these hills 
were a favourite resort of robbers. The advance was 
accordingly continued in fighting formation : Young- 
husband went first, on foot, with revolver in hand ; 
the leading camel followed with his bell taken off, and 
the flanks were protected by the guide and Liu-san, 
who was heavily armed with a tent-pole. It was now 
quite dark and nothing could be seen but the dark 
outline of the hills against the sky, and not even the 
tingle-tingle of the familiar bell broke the death-like 
silence of the desert. When the range was actually 
reached, the guide again halted ; the robbers, he said, 
had a nasty habit of rolling big stones down upon 
caravans going through the pass. So the travellers 
lay down in their sheepskins till daylight, taking it 
in turns to watch. The Mongol Ma-te-la said he had 
seen a horseman riding to the hill in the dusk, and 
Liu-san fired twice at others, who were perhaps 
imaginary ; but nothing happened, and at 3.30 they 
advanced again, still with arms in hand, but without 
seeing any sign of an attack. 

On the top of each hill was a cairn of stones, and by 
the dry bed of a river further on was a very large cairn 
and a lot of smaller ones, marking the place of a raid 
five years back, when a big caravan had been over- 
whelmed. All the silver was carried off, nine men 
were killed, and the rest were left to make their way 



192 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

across the desert on foot. The Mongols sighed with 
relief when they came to the end of this hilly country ; 
but when a water-hole was reached at dusk the same 
armed and silent performance had to be gone through 
again. Beyond this was an open plain, where at 
midnight the camp was pitched in safety. There was 
no water within twelve miles, so Younghusband opened 
a bottle of sherry — one of two which he had brought 
on purpose for the worst part of the Gobi. He says 
that he felt like a regular tippler in the delight with 
which he heard the pop of the cork and saw the wine 
gurgling out into the glass. 

For a week after this the route lay within sight 
of the Altai mountains, a range 9,000 feet high with 
new fallen snow on their summits. On the 17th the 
travellers emerged once more from the hills on to another 
great plain, where they saw a number of wild asses, or 
horses of an ass-like species, with large heads and ears, 
and long thin tails like a mule's or donkey's. On 
the evening of the 18th the camels got completely 
bogged and it took a whole day to recover and rest 
them. 

One evening after this Ma-te-la was suddenly seen 
to dash on ahead at a great pace till he became a mere 
dot in the distance. Nine hours after the caravan 
reached a stretch of grass by a stream, where four tents 
were standing : and there was Ma-te-la, in his own 
home. He had served the guide for two years, but 
the old screw only paid him 15 taels (£3 15s.), which 
came to about a penny a day. There would seem to be 
room for a trade union in the Gobi Desert ! 

On June 23 Younghusband reached the oasis of 
Ya-hu, and on the 25th he camped at Ulu-Khutun, 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 193 

where the road to Guchen branches off. The next day 
was a memorable one : he had halted by a spring, and 
climbed a hill to get a look round ; there were plenty of 
soft clouds about, and at first they were all that he 
saw. Then suddenly his eye rested on something 
only just distinguishable from the clouds ; in a moment 
he had out his telescope, and there in the far distance 
was a great snowy range of mountains, the real Tian- 
Shan, or Heavenly Mountains, as the Chinese call 
them. 4 My delight/ he says, * was unbounded, for 
they marked the end of my long desert journey.' 

But he was not nearly there yet, and the very next 
march was the most trying of the whole journey. He 
had to cross that part of the Gobi which is called the 
Desert of Zungaria, the most sterile of all. There was 
no path, no water, no fuel, no grass, absolutely nothing 
but gravel, so that it was of no use pitching camp. 
The ground was gradually descending to a very low 
level, the sun was scorching, and the wind hotter and 
hotter, until the travellers shrank from it as from the 
blast of a furnace. There was nothing to be done but 
to go on, and on they went for nearly twenty-eight 
hours. In that time they had done seventy miles from 
camp to camp, and had come down nearly 4,000 feet. 
Then at last they came to a kind of green park, with 
trees and long coarse grass. But even in this they 
could not sleep for the stifling heat and the plague of 
sandflies. * That/ says Younghusband, ' was the most 
despairing time of my whole journey, and many times 
that night I accused myself of being the greatest fool 
yet created, and swore I would never go wandering 
about the waste places of the earth again.' But then 
came the first glimmer of dawn, and he saw again the 



194 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

snowy summits of the Heavenly Mountains rising 
above him. 

He took courage and plodded on, crossing the Tian- 
Shan at last^at a height of 8,000 feet. The last mile or 
two of the pass was over soft green turf, and near the 
top there w r as a mass of flowers, chiefly forget-me-nots, 
a sight long to be remembered after the dreary gravel 
slopes of the Gobi Desert. And down the other side 
he pitched camp on a little grassy plot near a stream 
of cold clear water and under a small grove of trees. 
It was a perfect paradise ; but what struck him most 
was the singing of the birds and the drone of the insects, 
for in the Gobi there was always a death-like silence. 

On July 22 he passed Ching-Cheng, a small square- 
walled town standing in wheat fields, and then, after 
one more stretch of desert, Hami was at last before 
him. At 11 a.m. on July 24 he reached an inn, and 
with unspeakable relief dismounted from his camel for 
the last time. He had done the 1,255 miles of desert 
from Kwei-hwa-Cheng in just seventy days, in the last 
seven of which he had travelled 224 miles, including 
the passage of the burning Desert of Zungaria and the 
crossing of the Heavenly Mountains. 

4. To Kashgak and Yarkand 

Hami is a small town of only five or six thousand 
inhabitants, but it is a considerable trading centre, 
where Chinese, Mongols, Kalmaks, Turkis, and men of 
other nationalities meet together, coming in with large 
heavy travelling carts and strings of camels. Young- 
husband stayed here for four days, and made a new 
arrangement for his next stage. Camels being no longer 
needed, he resolved to go by cart this time, and in order 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 195 

to get along quickly without having to be perpetually 
urging on the servants, he made a contract with Liu- 
san. By this it was agreed that he himself was to be 
regarded as a piece of merchandise, to be delivered 
baggage and all at Kashgar within forty days. Liu-san 
was to be entirely responsible, and was to be paid 
70 taels (about £17 105.) before starting, and 30 taels 
more if he reached Kashgar in the time. Also he was 
to receive two taels extra for every day he was in 
advance of time, and to lose two taels for every day 
over the forty. 

This arrangement worked excellently. * I became 
an impassive log/ says Younghusband, 4 and enjoyed 
myself immensely. It was quite a new sensation to be 
able to lie lazily in bed while breakfast was being got 
ready ; at the end of breakfast to find everything 
prepared for the start ; and all the way through to 
have an enthusiastic and energetic servant constantly 
urging me to go on further and quicker.' The cart 
was a large covered one, called an araba, with only 
one pair of very high wheels ; it was drawn by two 
mules and two ponies, one in the shafts and three 
tandem fashion in front. It carried 2000 lbs. of 
t> a gg a g e an d supplies, besides Liu-san, while Young- 
husband rode a pony most of the way. 

The start was made on July 8 and was rather 
depressing, for the country seemed half dead — there 
were many ruined houses in the fields and hardly any 
people working. On the 9th the travellers reached a 
village with four inns ; but the rooms were all occupied 
by fleas, and Younghusband slept in the cart. Another 
inn, on the 11th, was full of soldiers, who were civil 
when they heard he belonged to ' the great English 



196 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

nation.' In that country they only know the names 
of three nations — the English, French, and Russian ; 
and ours they always speak of as c the great English 
nation.' 

On July 13 the travellers passed through a narrow 
and precipitous gorge, between cliffs six or seven hundred 
feet high. After this the road forked, and they thought 
they had lost their way. They halted for the night, 
and at dawn found themselves heading right, but the 
cart got stuck in a hole for two hours. The next night 
they lost the track again and went wandering round 
the country till 1.30 a.m., when they reached the gate 
of a town, Pi-chan, but found it shut. The next night, 
at Liang-ming Chang, they slept on the ground in the 
inn yard, as it was too hot even in the cart. 

Fourteen miles further they descended another 
valley between very steep hills, composed entirely of 
clay and absolutely barren. Here were the remains 
of many houses, destroyed by landslips. Beyond this 
gorge they came to open desert — a very curious desert, 
for it was covered with hundreds of wells : they were 
dug at intervals of twenty yards in long lines, each line 
a couple of miles in length. The wells were not round 
but oblong, about 3 feet broad and 7 or 8 feet long ; 
one which Younghusband examined was 110 feet deep. 
Liu-san declared that they had been dug by a Chinese 
army besieging the town of Turfan, but Younghusband 
came to the conclusion that they were a means of 
irrigation and intended to lead the underground water 
down by stages to the lower part of the country. 

He reached Turfan on the 17th, and dismounted 
at a shop where there was a fine-looking man who 
spoke to him in Russian, and shook hands. In a 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 197 

courtyard were spread some fine carpets, on which sat 
men in Turk dress. But no one spoke any language 
that Younghusband knew. Suddenly he overheard 
the word ' Hindustani.' He said at once ' Hindustani 
zaban bol sakta ' ( c I can speak Hindustani '), and they 
sent off for another man, an Afghan merchant who 
had travelled through a great part of India. He came 
immediately and had a long talk with Younghusband, 
explaining that the merchants were Andijanis, and 
the whole trade of the place was silk-making. Then 
tea was brought ; it was Chinese, but Indian tea could 
also be bought in the town. 

After this Younghusband walked about to see the 
shops, and again chanced upon a man who spoke 
Hindustani. This was an Arab Hajji or pilgrim 
from Mecca : he had travelled through India, Afghani- 
stan, Persia, Egypt, Turkey, and Bokhara, and was 
going next ' wherever Fate led him.' Some Turks, 
seeing the two travellers standing together and talking 
so keenly, very politely asked them over to a shop 
where there was a seat, and they then had a long talk. 
The Hajji had been at Herat the year before (1886) ; 
he pointed his two forefingers at each other and brought 
them together till they nearly touched— that, he said, 
was how the English and Russians were then. Next, 
he let his forefingers slip past each other and lie parallel — 
that, he said, was how Russia and England were now. 
He then locked his two forefingers together, and said 
that was how England and the Amir of Afghanistan 
were. Of course that was in the days of the great 
Abdur Rahman, the father of Habibullah andNasrullah. 
The Hajji himself seemed to have a high opinion of 
the English, and explained to the crowd outside who 



198 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

and what Younghusband was. Finally the courteous 
Turk provided a second tea ; but the Arab for some 
reason would not take any. 

At Karashar, which he reached on July 24, Young- 
husband found no one who could speak Hindustani ; 
but he succeeded in buying another pony, a good cob 
with short back and legs and enormous quarters, but 
with pleasanter paces than his appearance suggested. 
The price was 20 taels, or £5, and as the animal was 
evidently a weight-carrier, Younghusband started hope- 
fully in the evening. But in crossing a swamp not 
far from the town he fell into misfortunes. Three 
times the cart stuck ; the first time it took three hours 
to get it out of the bog, with the aid of some Turks ; 
at the third rut the animals were so exhausted that 
they had to be left till next day. In the morning the 
Turks tried again, and were successful ; they each 
received a reward of twenty-five cents, and Young- 
husband also presented the man in whose house he had 
passed the night with some tea, sugar, candles, and 
matches. The Turk salaamed profusely ; his old wife 
also appeared and bowed very gracefully, after which 
she produced a tray with some tea, bread, and flowers. 
A good traveller often finds charming hosts. 

At Aksu, on August 7, Younghusband engaged a 
Pathan guide to take him to Kashgar by one route, 
while the cart went by another. The Pathan, whose 
name was Rahmat-ula-Khan, was an intelligent and 
adventurous fellow, never at a loss. On the second 
night out he billeted Younghusband in a Kirghiz encamp- 
ment, where he found himself quartered in a tent with 
four very old ladies, one of whom was a great -grand- 
mother, and the youngest a grandmother. They 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 199 

examined his kit with great interest, and when he 
took off his boots they spied holes in his socks, whisked 
them away immediately, and mended them. After 
this they said their prayers — they always appeared to 
be praying. They all dined on curds and milk and a 
little bread ; then after saying their prayers once more 
they made up four beds, pulled a felt over the hole 
in the tent roof, and everyone slept comfortably till 
morning. 

Two days later the travellers reached an encamp- 
ment of six tents where they had a very different recep- 
tion. A very surly owner agreed to take them in. By 
the tent door was a huge fierce-looking eagle, tethered 
by the leg : one of those which the Kirghiz keep for 
hawking, and with which they capture even small 
deer. Younghusband was relieved when he got past 
this savage doorkeeper safely, and still more when he 
left it and its surly master next day . But the next camp 
was even more dangerous, and when morning came a 
crowd of Kirghiz collected, gesticulating wildly and 
refusing to let Younghusband pass further through 
their country. They said no European ever had 
passed through it, and none ever should. But Rahmat- 
ula-Khan managed them with great skill : he smiled 
and smiled and kept on talking to them very quietly, 
first letting them exhaust their energy and then arguing 
himself. He said his master had come direct from 
Peking with a passport from the Emperor of China, 
so that if anything happened to him they would have 
Chinese soldiers swarming over their country. Then 
more cunningly still he went on to say that as far as 
he was concerned it was a matter of indifference 
whether they let the Englishman go through or not ; 



200 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

but looking at the question from an outside point of 
view it certainly seemed wiser to pass him on to the 
next place, and so end the matter. Gradually the 
Kirghiz allowed themselves to be persuaded by Rahmat- 
ula-Khan, and Younghusband went on his way in 
peace. 

He now marched hard to get out of their country, 
and the same day he reached the great central plain of 
Turkestan again. From there he saw a sight which 
at first struck him dumb with wonder — a line of snowy 
peaks apparently suspended in mid-air. They were 
the Pamir Mountains, one of them 25,000 feet high 
and another 22,000 feet ; but they were so distant, 
and the lower atmosphere was so laden with dust, that 
their bases were hidden and only their snowy tops were 
visible. They were a welcome landmark to Young- 
husband, for it was on this side of them that he would 
turn off to the left for India. 

The next day — the fortieth — he reached Kashgar 
exactly up to time, and was at last on the fringes of 
civilisation. There he had plenty of talk with the 
Russian consul, with the Afghan Aksakal or trade 
representative — who knew all about India, and talked 
much of different kinds of rifles and revolvers — and 
with some Afghan merchants who had fought against 
us in past wars, and greatly admired ' Ropert ' — as 
they called General Lord Roberts. They also admired 
the English soldiers for being ' able to fight quite as 
well as the Afghans ' ! Liu-san now arrived with the 
cart, and the whole party started again for Yarkand, 
which they reached on August 29. Outside the town 
they were met by the Kashmir Aksakal and a number 
of Indian traders who had heard that an English officer 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 201 

was coming. c An Englishman, 5 says Younghusband, 
1 always gets a warm welcome from natives of India 
in foreign countries/ In the best Chinese inn the chief 
room had been made ready for him : carpets, chairs, 
and tables had been brought from the Aksakal's own 
house, and the merchants kept sending in large plates 
and baskets piled with fruit. 

On entering the town Younghusband received a 
letter from Colonel Bel], written on the Karakoram 
Pass, and advising him instead of following him along 
the well-known and dull route, to try the direct and 
unexplored road by the Mustagh Pass and through 
Baltistan and Kashmir. This suggestion delighted 
Younghusband, for it showed him how to add to his 
journey a finish which would be quite new and original. 
Accordingly, after calling on the Chinese Amban, or 
Governor, he began his preparations, in which he was 
cordially helped by the merchants, who gave him a 
sumptuous feast in a fruit garden, and formed them- 
selves into a sort of committee for providing him with 
guides and ponies. 

It was fitting that here in Yarkand so warm a 
welcome should be waiting for Younghusband, for 
his uncle, Robert Shaw, had in his time been the first 
of all Englishmen to visit the place. He had come 
there disguised as a merchant with a caravan, and had 
been joined by another famous explorer, Hayward, 
who afterwards fell among thieves in the Yassin Valley 
and was murdered at sunrise next morning. They 
both succeeded in getting back from Yarkand to India, 
and Shaw was afterwards sent there by the Govern- 
ment as Political Agent. His house was now no longer 
standing, but the people had been devoted to him, and 



202 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

Younghusband was refreshed once more by the memory 
of the man to whom he owed the greatest impulse of 
his life. 

5. The Mustagh Pass 

Younghusband left Yarkand on September 8. The 
party with which he intended to cross the Himalayas 
by one of the highest and most difficult passes in the 
world was a large one for a serious climb. First, there 
were thirteen ponies, with four Ladaki servants. One 
of these, named Drogpa, had been specially sent 
back by Colonel Bell, and was put in charge of the 
whole caravan. Then there were five Balti carriers ; 
three of these had been taken by robbers and sold for 
slaves in Yarkand. Younghusband had bought them 
and set them free. Another of them was their head- 
man, Wali, who was to act as guide : a short, thickset 
man with an iron grey beard, a prominent rather 
hooked nose, and an expression of determination and 
proud indifference to danger. ' For him,' says Young- 
husband, l I entertain a regard such as I do for few 
other men ' ; and he says this with good reason. But 
for Wali the Mustagh Pass would never have been 
crossed. The last of the party was Liu-san, the Chinese 
boy. 

The expedition began by marching down the Yarkand 
River till they came to a side valley with a smaller 
river called the Surakwat. Some way up this, at about 
15,000 feet, they crossed an outlying ridge and saw 
the Himalayas right before them — tier after tier of 
stately mountains, whose peaks reached 25,000, 26,000, 
and in one supreme case 28,000 feet. Below them 
lay the valley of the Oprang River, and when they had 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 203 

gone down this and turned a corner they looked up 
and found themselves right under a peak of appalling 
height, and in shape an almost perfect cone. It was 
the famous K.2, second only to Mount Everest, and 
here on the northern side, where it is literally clothed 
in glacier, there must have been from 14,000 to 16,000 
feet of solid ice, going straight up in front of the 
travellers. 

After getting the ponies with great difficulty and 
pain over a part of the main glacier, Younghusband 
camped there for the night, in the midst of a sea of ice, 
and held a council of war to decide which pass he should 
attack, for there were two, the Old Mustagh and the 
New Mustagh. No European had ever crossed either 
of them, and even the natives had long abandoned 
the Old pass, because of the ice which had pushed 
forward upon it. But on reconnoitring the New pass 
that was found to be hopeless for ponies, so the guide 
suggested that they should leave the ponies behind 
and try the Old Mustagh on foot. This was a very 
anxious moment for Younghusband, for the decision 
lay with him, and if the pass proved too much for the 
climbers they would have to march back 180 miles 
through the mountains with only three or four days' 
supplies. 

He determined to stake everything on the chance. 
The ponies were left in charge of Liu-san and some of 
the older men, and at dawn, after a breakfast of tea 
and bread, Younghusband, Wali, Drogpa, and the rest 
started up the pass. It took six hours to reach the top, 
and then they found themselves looking down a sheer 
precipice. They had no nailed boots, no proper boots 
at all, no ice-axes, and no Alpine experience. They 



204 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

were within an inch of giving up. What saved them 
was the fact that Younghusband held his tongue. As 
he looked over the pass in silence the men watched 
him, and imagining that an Englishman never turned 
back from anything, they took it as a matter of course 
that he meant to go on. Wali was roped and went 
ahead, cutting steps in the ice with a pickaxe, and 
the rest followed with their soft leather boots slithering 
and sliming on the wet melting surface. The position 
was terrible and it broke poor Drogpa's nerve : he 
trembled violently and stopped short, though he was 
a hillman born. Younghusband laughed off his own 
dismay and told Drogpa to go to the ponies, then 
took the rest on. On a very bad slope one man fell, 
but was saved by clutching the rope as he slid past at 
a frightful pace. 

At last, after six hours of this work on rock and ice 
as steep as the roof of a house, and with hardly any 
foothold or handhold, Wali got the remainder of the 
party down just as the sun set. The danger was over, 
and success assured. ' Such feelings as mine were now/ 
says Younghusband, c cannot be described in words, but 
they are known to everyone who has had his heart set 
on one great object and has accomplished it. I took 
one last look at the pass, never before or since seen by 
a European, and then we started away down the glacier 
to find some bare spot on which to lay our rugs and 
rest.' 

The sun had now set, but the night was marvellously 
beautiful, the moon nearly full, the sky cloudless, and 
in the amphitheatre of snowy mountains not one speck 
of anything but the purest white was visible. The 
travellers walked dreamily on, and presently the situa- 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 205 

tion took a more comic turn. One of the men was 




I i 



^uw 



'Sared by clutching the rope a« ho did past.* 

missed ; they went back and found him fifteen feet 
down a crevasse, comfortably wedged in by the load 
of bedding which he had been carrying. He was 



206 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

rescued with a rope and ordered to walk in front. He 
went ahead and Younghusband soon detected a strong 
smell of brandy coming from the bedding. He tore 
open the bundle, and found to his horror that his one 
bottle of brandy, given him by Lady Walsham and 
carried all this way for a supreme emergency, was 
broken to pieces. The bedding had been thrown over 
the pass as it could not be carried down, and though 
the bottle was packed in a sheepskin sleeping bag, it 
had failed to survive the shock. 

Next day they reached the village of Askoli, and a 
party went back with supplies for Liu-san and Drogpa ; 
they succeeded in getting over the pass again, though 
with three men badly injured. As for Younghusband, 
the insatiable explorer, he set out to try the New 
Mustagh pass from this side ; but fortunately his 
extravagant ambition proved to be quite unrealisable, 
so he went on with his journey towards India through 
Baltistan. When he came into Srinagar, in the Valley 
of Kashmir, he received a telegram of congratulation 
from General Roberts, and a letter and a box of cigars 
from General Chapman, then Quartermaster-General. 

After one day's rest he hurried on, for it was 
November 2, and his seven months were all but up. 
Next day he reached Murree, his own birthplace, by 
three marches and a ten-mile ride, and the day after 
he drove the last thirty-nine miles into Rawal Pindi, 
reaching the messhouse of his regiment on November 4, 
exactly as he had hoped to do when he left Peking 
on April 4. Six weeks later came Liu-san, to whom 
had been due in no small degree the success of this 
unparalleled journey. 

For this exploration, begun when he was still only 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 207 

twenty -three, Younghusband was in 1890 awarded the 
Gold Medal of the Royal Geographical Society, and 
was probably the youngest traveller who ever received 
that coveted distinction. 

6. The Mission to Tibet 

Younghusband was not long at rest. In the spring 
of 1889 the exploring spirit again moved him strongly. 
This time leave was refused by his commanding officer, 
and the disappointment was great. He did not know 
his fortune ; he could not guess that he was destined 
to fourteen years of training for an adventure of the 
first rank— an undertaking which w r ould demand every 
qualification that could be possessed by a British soldier, 
explorer, and statesman, and would perhaps outshine 
in romance every feat of travel and discovery achieved 
since the Elizabethan age. 

The training was arduous, but it was all directly to 
the point. It began when the Indian Government 
sent him up to the little state of Hunza or Kanjut, 
on the north of Kashmir, to deal with a chief named 
Safder Ali, a weak, arrogant, greedy rascal living 
beyond a tangle of passes and glaciers. With an 
escort of only six Gurkhas and his own five wits 
Younghusband brought him to reason and returned 
in safety. This success led to another : he was com- 
missioned to travel round the whole of the Pamirs, 
a high region which forms a sort of No Man's Land 
between the British, Russian, Chinese, and Afghan 
territories, and is known to Asiatics as ' The Roof of 
the World.' Out there he learned all about the bound- 
aries of Empires and their guards. He was illegally 
detained and turned out of his route by a Russian 



208 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

officer with a force of Cossacks. Having no escort 
himself, he had to be pleasant ; he was so tactful and 
good-humoured that his captors and he parted the 
best of friends. But within thirteen days he had 
reported them, and the Russian Ambassador had to 
offer an apology for their mistake. 

For four years after this his work was in Hunza 
and Chitral ; then in the Transvaal and Rhodesia ; 
then in Rajputana. In 1902 he became British 
Resident in Indore, and learned the government of a 
native state. At last in 1903 came the great opportunity 
for which all this experience had been the preparation : 
the expedition to Tibet. 

Where and what was Tibet ? Not many people 
could have given an answer of any value. Tibet was 
north of the Himalayas, but it was both an unknown 
and a forbidden land. For hundreds of years the 
Tibetans had been growing more and more determined 
to admit no foreigners to their country, and especially 
to their sacred city of Lhasa. Three times in three 
centuries the Jesuits had made their way in, but they 
had always been expelled. Three Englishmen had 
attempted the journey between the years 1774 and 
1822, but only one of them, Thomas Manning, got as 
far as Lhasa, and he was an eccentric gentleman who 
brought back few notes of any value. Two more 
Jesuits got through from China in 1846, but were soon 
expelled and sent back to China. The people and 
traders of Tibet were friendly enough, but the Lamas 
or priests who ruled them were ignorant men afraid 
of losing their own influence if Lhasa came into touch 
with the outside world. They were wily Orientals, 
far more difficult to deal with than all the soldiers 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 209 

Tibet could muster, and Younghusband's real objective 
was the defeat of their obstruction and ill-will. His 
business was to insist on negotiating in Lhasa itself, 
and to make a treaty there which should not be a treaty 
of conquest, but a basis for future good relations between 
India and Tibet. 

The two countries had been on very unsatisfactory 
terms for thirty years past. Tibet was nominally 
under the suzerainty or overlordship of China, but 
the Tibetans constantly disobeyed their suzerain. To 
our people they w T ere insolent : they invaded Indian 
territory, broke treaties, pulled up boundary pillars, 
and obstructed trade. This they thought they could 
do with impunity ; they relied on Russian support, 
and the Indian Government after many years of for- 
bearance decided that the time had come when the 
position must be cleared up. Tibet was a bad neigh- 
bour, and was evidently trying to make mischief 
between us and the Russians. The Viceroy, Lord 
Curzon, in May 1903 decided to send an armed Mission 
to open direct negotiations with the Tibetan Govern- 
ment, and if it met with obstruction, the Mission must 
be moved forward to Lhasa itself. The Commissioner, 
or political head of the Mission, was to be Major Francis 
Younghusband, with Mr. White as joint commissioner, 
Colonel Brander in command of the troops, and Captain 
O'Connor as Intelligence Officer. And thereupon Major 
Younghusband was sent for from his Residency at Indore, 
promoted to Colonel, asked to lunch at Simla with Lord 
Curzon and Lord Kitchener, given his instructions, and 
ordered to proceed. ' Here indeed,' he wrote, ' was the 
chance of my life. The thrill of adventure again ran 
through my veins.' This was not mere exploring, but 

p 



210 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

handling independent peoples, in the service of the 
Empire, and he had the immense encouragement of 
working under Lord Curzon, a chief who knew his own 
mind and * meant to see the thing through.' 

By July 1 the Mission had assembled at Tangu, only 
one march from the district of Giagong, which the 
Tibetans claimed. On the other side of the boundary 
wall envoys from Lhasa were said to be waiting, and 
Younghusband sent forward Mr. White and Captain 
O'Connor to meet with them. The envoys, however, 
turned out to be officials of no high rank, and their 
object was only to persuade the Mission to stay on the 
wrong side of the wall. This of course they failed to 
do. Colonel Younghusband himself came up, and 
rode straight through on July 18 to Khamba Jong, a 
Tibetan fort, the other side the Kangra-la, a pass 17,000 
feet in height. 

Here the oriental game was continued : he was 
at once visited by the Abbot of the Tashi Lumpo 
Monastery, a courteous, kindly old gentleman, who 
innocently begged him to send back his troops, or at 
least half of them. But the Dalai Lama, the ruler of 
Tibet, and the Chinese Amban, or Resident, had already 
agreed to negotiate at Khamba Jong, so Younghusband 
stayed where he was and kept his two hundred men. 
The Tibetan force by this time numbered thousands, 
and was preparing to block the road at successive 
points of vantage. 

The Dalai Lama did not keep his word. Young- 
husband waited a whole month in vain, and then 
returned to Simla for further orders. On November 6 
the English Government sanctioned the advance of 
the Mission to Gyantse. There it would come into 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 211 

direct touch with the Tibetan people, who were friendly, 
in spite of the priestly politics of the Lamas at Lhasa. 
Gyantse was a fortified town, and the hostility of the 
Lamas was undoubted, so the British force was to be 
increased to a battalion of Gurkhas, four companies of 
Sikh Pioneers, Sappers and Miners, with four guns and 
two maxims. The military command was entrusted to 
Brigadier-General Macdonald, an experienced engineer 
officer. 

Winter had now come on, and it had generally been 
assumed that during that season it would be impossible 
to take troops across the mountains. But Young- 
husband, White, Bretherton and O'Connor had had 
experience of Himalayan passes at all seasons of the 
year, and were able to persuade Lord Curzon and Lord 
Kitchener to let the advance be made even in the depth 
of winter. The risk was great, and as it turned out 
fifty degrees of frost and fearful blizzards were en* 
countered. But the feat was accomplished, and it has 
now been proved for all time that even the Himalayas 
cannot prevent us from entering Tibet at any season 
of the year. On December 12 General Macdonald 
marched his force over the Jelap-la, a pass 14,000 
feet high, which leads from Sikkim into the Chumbi 
Valley, a kind of labyrinth of deep forest valleys. 
The troops who had been left at Khamba Jong were 
to come across by another pass and join the main 
force a little further on. 

The Tibetans met this new advance with the same 
tactics as before : they sent a Tibetan general and a 
Chinese official to ask Colonel Younghusband to go 
back. When he declined they asked him to stay 
where he was for two or three months. He replied 



212 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

that they had wasted enough time at Khamba Jong : 
he was going on, but peaceably if they would let him. 
They then inquired what he would do if he found the 
gate in the frontier wall closed against him. He replied 
that he would blow it open. 

The decisive moment had come. Next morning 
the Commissioner rode with General Macdonald down 
the wooded gorge, and suddenly, round a sharp corner, 
found a solid wall stretching right across the valley. 
Then once more began the usual Tibetan game, which 
Younghusband had now learned to understand as well 
as his opponents. As he approached, with his flanking 
troops skirmishing on both sides, the same officials 
came forward and asked him to go back ; but he noticed 
that they had not closed the gate. The advance 
guard accordingly rode through, and exactly as the 
Commissioner passed under the gateway the local 
official seized his bridle and made an ineffectual protest. 
Then on the other side of the wall Younghusband 
gathered together all the Tibetan crowd, and explained 
to them the reasons for his advance. They were very 
good-humoured, and in a short time both sides were 
having lunch together. The Commissioner was filled 
with hopes of a peaceful journey and settlement ; 
but there he was wrong, for he was reckoning without 
the priesthood of Lhasa. 

7* The Road to Lhasa 

By December 18 the troops from Khamba Jong 
had joined up, and General Macdonald with a flying 
column of 795 men started up the Chumbi Valley 
for Phari, the highest town in the world, where there 
was a fort, which he garrisoned. He then returned 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 213 

and brought up the Mission on January 4 in bitter cold 
weather. They were met, as before, by three monks 
and a general, who haughtily demanded the withdrawal 
of the Mission. The local people were more friendly ; 
but even they thought the British force must be over- 
whelmed by the thousands of Tibetan troops waiting 
for them further on. Many camp followers believed 
them and deserted. 

But General Macdonald got his men safely over 
the pass below the great sentinel peak of Chumalhari, 
which is the real entrance to Tibet from Chumbi, and 
after marching all day over a plateau of snow they 
encamped at the little hamlet of Tuna, a desolate spot 
where Colonel Younghusband had his headquarters for 
the next three months. It was here that he played 
one of his boldest and most characteristic strokes. 

The Tibetan leaders had once more asked for an 
interview, and after some boggling they said they 
were ready to negotiate there, at Tuna. Younghusband 
was determined to force their hand this time, and find 
out whether any good could be done without going 
right on to Lhasa. He meant to take them by surprise, 
and on January 18 he took Captain O'Connor and 
Captain Sawyer with him and rode without any escort 
straight into the Tibetan camp at the village of Guru. 
There he was well received by the Tibetan generals, 
but when they took him into the room where the three 
Lhasa monks were seated, these Lamas barely saluted 
him at all, and refused to rise from their cushions. 
In that one instant he saw clearly where the obstruc- 
tion lay. 

In the discussion which followed he found out that 
mischief was being made by a Mongolian who was a 



214 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

Russian subject with the name of Dorjieff, also that 
the monks were fighting to keep their own influence. 
They were inclined to stick at nothing ; and when 
Younghusband rose to go they looked ' as black as 
devils ' and shouted, ' No, you won't : you'll stop 
here.' Suddenly the atmosphere became electric ; one 
of the generals left the room, trumpets sounded out- 
side, and attendants closed in behind the three officers. 
The situation was saved by Younghusband's calmness, 
by Captain O'Connor's quiet and smiling manner of 
interpreting, and by a suggestion from one of the 
generals that they should go back to Tuna with a 
Tibetan messenger, and get an answer from the Viceroy. 
They kept the smiles on their faces till they had mounted 
their ponies and got out of the camp. Then, says Young- 
husband, c we galloped off as hard as we could, lest 
the monks should get the upper hand again and send 
after us. It had been a close shave, but it was worth 
it/ He adds, c I knew from that moment that nowhere 
else than in Lhasa, and not until the monkish power 
had been broken, should we ever make a settlement.* 

Within the next few days a Tibetan general, two 
captains, and two other messengers were sent to 
persuade the Mission to return to Yatung ; and after- 
wards an official from the neighbouring State of Bhutan, 
with the attractive name of c the Trimpuk Jongpen/ 
came on the same errand. But as soon as General 
Macdonald's preparations were complete, the expedition 
moved forward towards Gyantse. They were but a 
handful of men — 100 Englishmen and 1200 Indians — 
and the Tibetans made an attempt to stop them with 
the usual stone wall across the road, at a place called 
Guru. The sepoys shepherded them quietly out of 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 215 

their position, as the police shepherd a London crowd, 
and all would have passed off peacefully if the Tibetan 
general had not lost his temper and shot a Gurkha in 
the face quite unexpectedly. The troops fired in reply, 
and the Tibetans hastily retreated, with considerable 
loss. This lamentable affair had a consoling sequel : 
the Tibetan wounded came in to be bandaged by our 
medical staff and showed great gratitude and admira- 
tion for the skill with which they were treated. But a 
second force built another wall at the next gorge, and 
General Macdonald had to defeat them too, before the 
expedition could reach Gyantse, where it arrived on 
April 11. 

A military campaign had now been forced upon 
the Mission, and a most unusual one it turned out 
to be. It is very seldom that a force so small attempts 
to invade another country, with no possibility of 
guarding its communications against a serious attack. 
It is still more seldom that troops are engaged at a 
height greater than that of Mont Blanc. But what 
made this campaign quite unique was the fact that the 
victorious force was trying its best not to hurt the 
enemy : our men had to fight hard for their own lives 
and yet were determined to avoid, as far as they could, 
the infliction of death or wounds on those who opposed 
them. They succeeded in both ways ; they won the 
game, but they kept their own score very low. It 
was like a War through the Looking-glass, and many 
of the officials they met seemed to have come out of 
Wonderland. 

Gyantse itself was a queer place — a small town with 
a big monastery full of Lamas, and a huge fort or jong 
overlooking the whole place. The Jong was evacuated, 



216 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

but the Mission left it empty and made a strong post 
opposite to it. General Macdonald then returned to 
Chumbi with the supports, and no sooner was he gone 
than the military game began again. The Tibetans 
were reported to be building a wall across the road at 
the Kuro-la, a pass forty-five miles towards Lhasa. 
Colonel Brander sallied out on May 3 and drove them 
off ; but his Gurkhas under Major Row had to climb 
a snow slope of 18,000 feet to outflank them, before 
they would give way. That same night, just before 
dawn, another force of 800 Tibetans tried to rush 
the Mission itself, and nearly succeeded. But the 
Gurkha sentries were stout men, and the attack was 
badly beaten. On the 26th Colonel Brander took the 
offensive again and stormed Palla, a village close to 
the Jong. On the 30th the Tibetans counter-attacked, 
and were again beaten. 

Colonel Younghusband was now ordered by his 
Government to go back to Chumbi to arrange plans 
with General Macdonald. On his way down he was 
attacked at the fortified post of Kangma ; but Captain 
Pearson with his garrison of 100 men beat off the rush 
and scattered the enemy. Meantime the Tibetans 
at Gyantse had reoccupied the Jong and were firing 
all day from it at the Mission, with old jingals carrying 
balls of the size of oranges. 

But reinforcements had now come up from India, 
and on June 26 Younghusband returned from Chumbi 
with General Macdonald and a strong force, defeating 
800 Tibetans in a four-hour fight on the way up. Two 
days after this the work of recapturing the Gyantse 
Jong was begun ; a ridge was captured and the fort 
was surrounded on three sides. The Tibetans then 










The troops fired in reply.' 



218 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

sent in an enormous flag of truce and asked for an 
armistice till a personage called the Ta Lama could 
come from Lhasa. On our side another personage, 
the Tongsa Penlop, was to arrive on the same day : 
he was the ruler of Bhutan, a very useful and pleasant 
man, whom our Government afterwards made Maharaja 
of Bhutan. Younghusband invited both these person- 
ages to a Durbar ; the Tongsa Penlop came punctually, 
but the Ta Lama and his party were deliberately late. 
Younghusband at once dismissed the Durbar. He 
summoned it again later, but the Tibetans were as 
usual all for delay. As no one could be got to order 
the evacuation of the Jong, Younghusband warned the 
town and told General Macdonald he was free to begin 
firing. 

The Jong was a fort of solid masonry on a precipi- 
tous rock, and had 5000 to 6000 Tibetans inside it. 
It looked impregnable, but was breached by shell fire, 
and then after maxim and rifle fire it was gallantly 
stormed by the Gurkhas and Royal Fusiliers. The 
Tongsa Penlop, who had been rather nervous about 
the result, came next morning to congratulate, and 
was taken over the fort. He was astonished, and so 
were our men. To look down from it on to the tiny 
Mission post, says Younghusband, was like looking 
down from the Round Tower of Windsor Castle upon 
a house and garden in the fields about Eton. 

It was now a whole year since the Mission had 
arrived at Khamba Jong — a whole year wasted by the 
futile tactics of the monks of Lhasa — and everyone 
was glad when the final march began on July 14. The 
Tibetans were not tired of the game yet ; once more 
they barricaded the Karo-la, and once more they were 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 



219 



outflanked by the Gurkhas at 18,000 feet on the snow. 
The pass itself was 16,600 feet high, and over this the 




* The Tibetans then sent in an enormous flag of truce.' 



whole force marched. No sooner were they over it 
than the Ta Lama appeared again, with another person- 
age called the Yutok Sha-pe, and offered to negotiate 
if Younghusband would only go back to Gyantse. 



220 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

Some days were lost in this kind of talk, and then the 
personages decamped suddenly in the night. 

Next morning, July 21, the expedition started on 
the final stage. The first day's march was a very 
pleasant one, along the shore of a marvellous lake, 
the Yamdok Tso, which the Tibetans call the Turquoise 
Lake because of its wonderful colour, though it is far 
more translucent than turquoise, and varies through 
every shade of colour from violet to green. On the 
22nd another stone wall was encountered, but there were 
no Tibetans behind it, and the expedition soon reached 
the Kamba-la, the last pass before Lhasa. On the other 
side the pass they came down to a great river, the 
Tsang-po, supposed to be the same as the Brahma- 
putra of India : it was here 140 yards wide and flowing 
swift and strong. Fortunately the mounted infantry 
were quick enough to capture the two large ferry-boats. 
The same day came a letter from the Tibetan National 
Assembly — the first written communication ever re- 
ceived by a British official from a Tibetan official 
since the days of Warren Hastings, 130 years before. 
It was of course an urgent request to Younghusband 
not to press forward to Lhasa ; and he had to consider 
very seriously, for the last time, whether he ought to 
take the risk of crossing and going forward with so 
formidable a river in his rear. 

In such a position a man decides according to his 
character, and Younghusband decided to cross his 
Rubicon. It took several days to get the whole force 
over, and while this was being done the Ta Lama 
reappeared, with other delegates, on the old errand. 
They brought with them this time a letter from His 
Holiness the Dalai Lama himself — the first ever written 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 221 

by any Dalai Lama to an Englishman. But Young- 
husband argued calmly and genially with them at one 
interview after another, and then marched on. This 
was a day of constant expectation. For a long time 
a mountain spur hid the plain from sight, but at last 
the longed for moment came. 6 It was about half- 
past one in the afternoon,' says Mr. Landon, c and a 
light blue haze was settling down in between the ravines 
of the far-distant mountains . . . the sun was merciless 
in a whitened sky. Then, as we rode on, it came . . . 
across and beyond the flat fields of barley a grey pyramid 
disengaged itself from behind the outer point of the 
grey concealing spur — Lhasa. There at last it was, 
the never-reached goal of so many weary wanderers, 
the home of all the occult mysticism that still remains 
on earth. . . . There was Lhasa.' 

8. In the Forbidden City 

Younghusband had reached Lhasa. But perhaps, 
as Lord Cromer said afterwards, any Englishman in 
the circumstances could have got there ; the difficulty 
was to get back again— with a treaty ; and this was 
now his task. He had only some six weeks before 
him, for he must be back before the winter ; he must 
make haste without seeming to be in a hurry; he 
must impress his will without offending. He began 
by opening negotiations, on the very day of his arrival, 
with Yu-tai, the Chinese Resident or Amban. 

The next day he ventured a strong and charac- 
teristic move : in order to return the Amban's visit 
he decided to take the risk of riding right through the 
city. It was of course swarming with hostile monks, 
more than 20,000 of them, but to show fear by going 



222 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

round outside would have been fatal to his chances 
of success. So with two companies of the Royal 
Fusiliers, the 2nd Mounted Infantry, and the Amban's 
bodyguard, he went right through the heart of the 
Forbidden City. It was disappointing in itself : houses, 
streets, and inhabitants were all extremely filthy, and 
the temples though massive were ungainly. But the 
Potala, the Dalai Lama's palace, made up for every- 
thing. It is a huge building of granite, bold and simple 
in style, nine hundred feet long, and crowned with a 
gleaming golden roof, the top of which is seventy feet 
higher than St. Paul's Cathedral dome. c The Potala,' 
says Mr. Landon, ; would dominate London : Lhasa 
it simply eclipses.' There is really nothing in Europe 
with which to compare it ; it has the massive grandeur 
of ancient Egyptian work, with far greater beauty of 
colour and position. 

The Amban conveyed the proposed terms to the 
Lamas, but their reply was so impertinent that he 
would not even mention it officially to Colonel Young- 
husband. He told him that the people, on the other 
hand, liked us : they had heard of our kindness to 
their wounded, and they were anxious to trade with 
us. This was all to the good, and soon afterwards the 
Dalai Lama's private abbot and some secretaries or 
Sha-pes came to pay a formal visit. Next day came 
a more interesting personage, the Ti Rimpoche, or 
Chief Doctor of Divinity and Metaphysics ; he reported 
that the Dalai Lama had left him the Regency and 
the seals of office, and had himself fled from Lhasa. 

After this the negotiations were carried on by a kind 
of committee of mixed personages : Colonel Young- 
husband, the British Commissioner, the Ti Rimpoche, 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 223 

Regent of Tibet, the Tongsa Penlop of Bhutan, and 
Captain Jit Bahadur, the representative of the neighbour- 
ing State of Nepal. In the background, behind these 
sensible men, were the sullen and suspicious monks, 
ready for any treachery or savagery. But the Ti 
Rimpoche knew that he would have to sign in the end. 
The terms demanded were briefly : (1) The opening of 
trade marts ; (2) a British Resident at Gyantse with 
power to go to Lhasa ; (3) destruction of certain forti- 
fications ; (4) control of policy ; (5) an indemnity of 
half our costs ; (6) occupation by us of the Chumbi 
Valley till the yearly instalments of the indemnity 
were paid. The time for payment was to have been 
only three years, but the Ti Rimpoche argued most 
persuasively in favour of a longer time. He said, 
laughing, ' that we were putting on the donkey a load 
greater than it could possibly carry.' ' I replied,' 
says Younghusband, ' that I was not asking the 
donkey to carry the whole load in one journey — it 
could go backwards and forwards many times, carrying 
a light load each journey. The Ti Rimpoche laughed 
again, and asked what would happen if the donkey 
died. I said I should ask the Resident to see that the 
donkey was properly treated, so that there should be 
no fear of its dying.' And thereupon Younghusband 
offered to consider any reasonable proposal. 

It was now the end of August, and the Commissioner 
had come to his most anxious moment. He thought 
it would take till October to get his Treaty through ; 
but the medical staff considered September 1 the latest 
safe date for starting homeward, and even General 
Macdonald was only prepared to stay till September 15, 
or a day or two later ; snow had already fallen on the 



224 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

passes. The Ti Rimpoche was probably not unwilling 
to agree to the terms ; the problem was how to induce 
the Lamas to accept them, and when and where to 
hold the final ceremony. Younghusband had, by now, 
an unrivalled experience of the peculiar diplomacy of 
the Tibetans ; he had, too, a more than Oriental power 
of sitting silent and unwearied through hours of futile 
obstinacy, and seeing into the childish minds of these 
half mystical, half savage Lamas. He felt sure that 
they were now all convinced, but all afraid of each 
other. They had talked themselves out : 4 the time 
to strike had come.' 

His way of striking was this. He told the Amban 
he would call on him on September 1, with the full 
final draft of the Treaty, and that he wished the Tibetan 
Council and National Assembly to be present. He 
intended ' to inform the whole of the leading men of 
Lhasa, monk, lay, and official, that they must sign the 
Treaty, or take the consequences of refusal.' On 
September 1, accordingly, he rode through Lhasa in 
full dress to the Chinese Residency and addressed the 
assembled Tibetans with calm severity, pointing out 
that their own conduct had been the sole cause of 
trouble all through, that the terms were very moderate, 
and that they were the commands of the British Govern- 
ment, and must be accepted. They could have a week 
for reflection, if they wished, but the indemnity would 
be increased by 50,000 rupees for every day they delayed. 

Within three days the Ti Rimpoche came to accept, 
Younghusband then extended the time for payment to 
seventy-five years, and forgave the fine for the two 
days' delay. Thereupon the Ti Rimpoche sealed the 
draft Treaty with his private seal. 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 225 

The next day, September 4, the Amban and the 
principal Tibetans came to arrange for the final 
ceremony. Younghusband had always felt the import- 
ance of negotiating nowhere but in Lhasa itself, and 
he now felt equally sure that the Treaty, if it was to 
be a really solemn and binding one, must be signed 
nowhere but in the Potala Palace, and in the very 
room in which the Dalai Lama himself would have 
held such a ceremony, if he had been there. The 
Amban agreed ; the Tibetans objected strongly. They 
gave no reason, but to the end they wanted to have 
their own way and not to recognise the British as 
equals. The Commissioner told them that the question 
was not one for discussion, and that he would send 
his officers that afternoon to inspect the Palace, and 
satisfy themselves that the right room was got ready. 
This was done, and the ceremony was then fixed for 
the following day. 

The blow had been struck; but Younghusband 
had many secret qualms that night. He knew what 
the Potala meant to the Tibetans — it was the most 
forbidden part of the Forbidden City ; he remembered 
that no European — except Manning, a humble private 
traveller nearly a century ago — had ever been allowed 
even to enter the building, and he saw vividly what his 
own position might be to-morrow, shut in with a few 
followers, and surrounded by thousands of exasperated 
monks. But the ceremony was worth the risk ; it 
would strike the imagination not only of the Tibetans 
but of our own men, and of the whole Indian world. 
In Nepal, Bhutan and Sikkim, and far away up into 
Kashmir and Turkestan, the tribes would tell the news, 
and realise that the British ruled because they dared 

Q 



226 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

to rule. For lack of this imaginative boldness the 
Chinese had lost their power in Tibet — we must not 
fail at the test. 

General Macdonald took what precautions he could : 
he lined the route, placed a battery to salute— or 
bombard — the Palace, and provided a bodyguard. 
Five copies of the Treaty were made ready, in English, 
Tibetan and Chinese : one for Calcutta, one for London, 
one for Lhasa, one for the Chinese Government, and 
one for our Minister in Peking. The copy for the 
Tibetans was on a single huge sheet of paper, and they 
were all carried on a large silver tray. The table was 
Colonel Younghusband's own camp table, and it was 
covered with the Mission Headquarters flag, the same 
which now hangs over the statue of Queen Victoria in 
Windsor Castle. 

The scene inside the Potala was a strange one. 
On the left of the Durbar Hall stood the British and 
Indian officers and men, all in sober fighting uniforms. 
Opposite them were the mass of Tibetans, the Councillors 
in yellow silk robes, others in bright colours, with 
Bhutanese also in brilliant dresses and quaint head- 
gear. Between the two parties the Amban advanced 
to greet the British Commissioner ; he had with him 
his own staff in full official costume, and the Regent, 
the Ti Rimpoche, was by his side, in the severely clerical 
dress of a Lama. The pillars and roof beams of the 
hall were rich with colour, and an immense silk curtain, 
gorgeously embroidered, was hung across it as a back- 
ground to the chairs of state. Over all there was a 
soft hazy light, not from side windows but from a great 
skylight covered with coloured canvas. 

The Amban took his seat in the centre, between 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 227 

the two high contracting parties, the Commissioner on 
the right and the Ti Rimpoche on the left. Tea was 
served and dried fruits, and then Colonel Young- 
husband ordered the Treaty to be read aloud in Tibetan, 
and asked the Tibetans if they were prepared to sign 
it. It was the supreme crisis of a life full of bold 
risks. 

He had read his opponents rightly — they accepted 
without a murmur. The long process of sealing then 
began. Younghusband asked the Tibetans to seal 
first, and when the seals of the Council, the Monasteries, 
and the National Assembly had been affixed, he rose, 
and advanced with the Ti Rimpoche to the table, the 
Amban and the whole Durbar rising at the same time. 
The Ti Rimpoche then affixed the Dalai Lama's seal, 
and finally the Commissioner, having sealed and signed 
the document, handed it to the Ti Rimpoche, saying 
that a peace had now been made which he hoped would 
never again be broken. 

The other copies were then sealed and signed in 
like manner, and finally the Tibetans, laughing and 
yet respectful, like good children, crowded round to 
shake hands with every British officer they could 
reach. The Commissioner announced that he would 
ask General Macdonald to give back all his prisoners, 
and he told the Tibetans that they would find us good 
friends, as they had found us bad enemies. Lastly 
he gave a thousand rupees to the Lamas of the Potala. 
He had beaten these monks at their own game; he 
had broken their arrogant seclusion and tyranny, but 
he was not without respect for them. Beneath the 
degraded form of their religion he recognised a source 
of real strength. 



228 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

For the Ti Rimpoche, who came to bid him good- 
bye a few days later, he had a stronger and more 
unmixed feeling. The reverend old Regent brought 
him an image of Buddha as a parting present, and as 
he put it into my hand, says Younghusband, c he said 
with real impressiveness that he had none of the riches 
of this world, and could only offer me this simple image. 
Whenever he looked upon an image of Buddha he 
thought only of peace, and he hoped that whenever 
I looked on it I would think kindly of Tibet. I felt 
like taking part in a religious ceremony as the kindly 
old man spoke those words ; I was glad that all political 
wranglings were over, and that now we could part 
friends, as man with man. 5 

Of the wonders of Lhasa much more might be 
told ; but of Younghusband's great journey this is 
the end — a good Treaty made by good men. 

9. A Letter to Lhasa 

The following letter was written to Colonel Young- 
husband in Lhasa by an old schoolfellow, and met 
him on his return : 

Epistle 

To Colonel Francis Edward Younghusband 

Across the Western World, the Arabian Sea, 
The Hundred Kingdoms and the Rivers Three, 
Beyond the rampart of Himalayan snows, 
And up the road that only Rumour knows, 
Unchecked, old friend, from Devon to Tibet, 
Friendship and Memory dog your footsteps yet. 

Let not the scornful ask me what avails 
So small a pack to follow mighty trails : 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 229 

Long since I saw what difference must be 

Between a stream like you, a ditch like me. 

This drains a garden and a homely field 

Which scarce at times a living current yield ; 

The other from the high lands of his birth 

Plunges through rocks and spurns the pastoral earth, 

Then settling silent to his deeper course 

Draws in his fellows to augment his force, 

Becomes a name, and broadening as he goes, 

Gives power and purity where'er he flows, 

Till, great enough for any commerce grown, 

He links all nations while he serves his own. 

Soldier, explorer, statesman, what in truth 
Have you in common with homekeeping youth ? 
4 Youth ' comes your answer like an echo faint ; 
And youth it was that made us first acquaint. 
Do you remember when the Downs were white 
With the March dust from highways glaring bright 
How you and I, like yachts that toss the foam, 
From Penpole Fields came stride and stride for home ? 
One grimly leading, one intent to pass, 
Mile after mile we measured road and grass, 
Twin silent shadows, till the hour was done, 
The shadows parted and the stouter won. 
Since then I know one thing beyond appeal — 
How runs from stem to stern a trimbuilt keel. 
Another day — but that's not mine to tell, 
The man in front does not observe so well ; 
Though, spite of all these five-and-twenty years, 
As clear as life our schoolday scene appears. 
The guarded course, the barriers and the rope ; 
The runners, stripped of all but shivering hope ; 
The starter's good grey head ; the sudden hush ; 
The stern white line ; the half-unconscious rush ; 
The deadly bend, the pivot of our fate ; 
The rope again ; the long green level straight ; 
The lane of heads, the cheering half unheard ; 
The dying spurt, the tape, the judge's word. 



230 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

You, too, I doubt not, from your Lama's hall 

Can see the Stand above the worn old wall, 

Where then they clamoured as our race we sped, 

Where now they number our heroic dead. 1 

As clear as life you, too, can hear the sound 

Of voices once for all by ' lock-up ' bound, 

And see the flash of eyes still nobly bright 

But in the ' Bigside scrimmage ' lost to sight. 

Old loves, old rivalries, old happy times, 

These well may move your memory and my rhymes ; 

These are the Past ; but there is that, my friend, 

Between us two, that has nor time nor end. 

Though wide apart the lines our fate has traced 

Since those far shadows of our boyhood raced, 

In the dim region all men must explore — 

The mind's Tibet, where none has gone before — 

Rounding some shoulder of the lonely trail 

We met once more, and raised a lusty hail. 

* Forward I ' cried one, ; for us no beaten track, 
No city continuing, no turning back : 
The past we love not for its being past, 
But for its hope and ardour forward cast : 
The victories of our youth we count for gain 
Only because they steeled our hearts to pain, 
And hold no longer even Clifton great 
Save as she schooled our wills to serve the State. 
Nay, England's self, whose thousand-year-old name 
Burns in our blood like ever-smouldering flame, 
Whose Titan shoulders as the world are wide 
And her great pulses like the Ocean tide, 
Lives but to bear the hopes we shall not see — 
Dear mortal Mother of the race to be.' 



1 In the school quadrangle at Clifton, the site from which, 
upon occasion, the grand stand used to overlook the Close, is now 
occupied by the memorial to those Cliftonians who fell in the 
South African War. 



FRANCIS YOUNGHUSBAND 231 

Thereto you answered, ' Forward ! in God's name : 

I own no lesser law, no narrower claim. 

A freeman's Reason well might think it scorn 

To toil for those who may be never born, 

But for some Cause not wholly out of ken, 

Some all-directing Will that works with men, 

Some Universal under which may fall 

The minor premiss of our effort small ; 

In Whose unending purpose, though we cease, 

We find our impulse and our only peace.' 

So passed our greeting, till we turned once more, 
I to my desk and you to rule Indore. 
To meet again — ah ! when ? Yet once we met, 
And to one dawn our faces still are set. 

Exeter, 
September 10, 1904. 



VII. ROBERT SCOTT 

1. Twice to the Antarctic 

In 1899 Sir Clements Markham, then President of the 
Royal Geographical Society, was actively engaged in 
furthering the exploration of the unknown Antarctic 
Continent. For leader of the proposed expedition 
his choice fell upon Captain Robert Falcon Scott, 
R.N., whom he describes as \ a rising naval officer, able, 
accomplished, popular, highly thought of by his superiors, 
and devoted to his noble profession.' It was a serious 
responsibility, says Sir Clements, to induce Scott. to 
take up the work of an explorer ; yet no man living 
could be found who was so well fitted to command 
a great Antarctic Expedition. 

The voyage was a complete success ; Scott's dis- 
coveries were of great importance. He surveyed the 
Barrier Cliffs and sounded along them, discovered 
King Edward Land, Ross Island and the other volcanic 
islets, and examined the Barrier surface. But his most 
interesting and important work was the discovery of 
the Victoria Mountains, a range of great height and 
many hundreds of miles in extent ; and the remarkable 
journey towards the Pole, by which he ascertained that 
the South Pole is situated on a huge ice cap. But his 
equipment did not enable him to reach it on this occasion, 
and whatever he may have resolved about the future, 
on his return to England the Navy claimed his services, 

232 



ROBERT SCOTT 233 

and he spent the next five years in working at the 
Admiralty and commanding battleships. 

In 1910 he was once more free to accept the com- 
mand of an expedition. The object this time was 
mainly scientific, to complete and extend his former 
work in all branches of science. For this his ship, 
the Terra Nova, was completely equipped — more com- 
pletely, both as regards men and material, than any 
that had ever left these shores ; and the success of the 
expedition was proportionate. This time it was also 
part of Scott's plan to reach the South Pole, not only 
to make good his own belief that ; there is no part of 
the world that can not be reached by man, 5 but to 
achieve scientific results oil the way, especially by 
investigating the geological formation of the great 
mountain range which he had discovered before. 
Public service and personal distinction — these were the 
desires which moved him, and how he thought of them 
may be seen from the quotation from Sir Humphrey 
Gilbert, which he wrote on the fly-leaf of his MS. book. 
6 He is not worthy to live at all, who for fear and danger 
of death shunneth his country's service or his own 
honour, since death is inevitable and the fame of virtue 
immortal. 5 

The Terra Nova sailed first for New Zealand, where 
she arrived early in November 1910. Besides the 
ship's party of twelve officers and twenty men, she 
carried shore parties of seven officers and twelve 
scientific men. Scott's officers were Lieutenant Edward 
Evans, Lieutenant Victor Campbell, Lieutenant Henry 
Bowers, Captain Lawrence Oates (the Soldier), and 
Surgeons Levick and Atkinson. His scientific staff were 
Dr. Edward Wilson, zoologist ; Apsley Cherry-Garrard, 



234 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

assistant zoologist; Dr. George Simpson, meteoro- 
logist; Messrs. Taylor, Nelson, Debenham, Wright 
and Priestley, geologists, biologists and physicists; 
Herbert Ponting, camera artist ; Cecil Meares, in charge 
of dogs; Bernard Day, motor engineer; and Tryggve 
Gran, a Norwegian naval officer, who went as ski expert. 
All these names deserve to be recorded ; some of them 
will be famous as long as Englishmen are proud of 
their breed. 

The expedition left New Zealand on November 26, 

and on the last day of the year they sighted the great 

Antarctic mountains at a distance of 110 miles — 

beautiful peaks lying in the sunshine at 10 o'clock 

of a November evening. Three days later they reached 

the Barrier — the vast sheet of ice, over 400 miles wide 

and even more in depth, which lies south of Ross Island 

and bars the seaway to the Pole. The Barrier was here 

sixty feet high, so that landing was impossible, but 

Scott coasted along to a point where he had erected a 

hut during his previous voyage in the Discovery. Cape 

Armitage, the point was called, but he now renamed it 

Cape Evans, in honour of his second in command, 

Edward Evans, and there the expedition landed, 

motor sledges, ponies, dogs and all, taking a week 

over the work. A new hut was at once built, and a 

line of depots begun on a line running due south towards 

the Pole. There were eventually between Cape Evans 

and the Pole twelve of these dep6ts, and their names 

and order must be given here, for they are the key 

to the story which follows. Taking them in the outward 

order they were these : Corner Camp, from which the 

start was to be made, Bluff Depot, One Ton Depot, 

Mount Hooper Depot, Mid-Barrier Depot, South Barrier 



ROBERT SCOTT 235 

Dep6t — these were all on the comparatively level top 
of the ice field. Then came the ascent of the 10,000 
foot glacier among the mountains : Lower Glacier 
Depot, Mid-Glacier Depot, Upper Glacier Depot. 
Then the final plateau to the Pole, which is itself 9,500 
feet above the sea: Three Degree Depot, 1| Degree 
Depot, and Last Depot. Of these twelve depots of 
course only the first few could be made ready before 
the actual journey. 

Meantime the building operations having been 
carried to an unexampled point of perfection, the 
scientific observers got to work, and for ten months 
the whole party led a busy and harmonious life. They 
had, of course, some difficulties and accidents, and one 
real shock. On February 22, a letter reached Scott 
from Lieutenant Campbell, who was prospecting to 
the east in the Bay of Whales, announcing that he 
had found there an expedition of Norwegians under 
Captain Amundsen, who was bent on being the first 
to reach the South Pole. Scott grasped the truth of 
the situation at once, and acted with perfect judg- 
ment. The Norwegians had gained what looked like 
a winning position — Amundsen had chosen a starting 
point where he was sixty miles nearer to the goal, and 
had succeeded, against all likelihood, in getting his 
sledges and dog teams safely ashore there. He had 
also the advantage of being able to move earlier in 
the season, for dogs could be used when ponies could 
not, and Scott had given up his dogs in favour of ponies, 
since he found that their pulling power was not sufficient 
for his route. 

With all this in his mind, many a man would have 
been drawn into a premature and dangerous rush. 



236 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

Scott decided at once to go on c exactly as though 
this had not happened — to go forward and do our 
best for the honour of the country without fear or 
panic' Six months afterwards he was still of the 
same mind : ' Any attempt to race must have wrecked 
my plan ; besides which it doesn't appear the sort 
of thing one is out for. . . . After all, it is the 
work that counts, not the applause that follows.' 

But he meant to be first if he could, and in these 
ten months he made every kind of preparation and 
experiment that he could devise to lay the ground 
for success. His final plan was an elaborate one, 
and it was thought out in every detail. The motors 
were to go ahead as far as they could — he did not 
in his heart expect much of them — then the ponies 
were to take up the running, and when they had 
to give up, the dogs were to carry on with lighter loads. 
When the dogs were no longer useful, the party was 
to be weeded out, and the fittest and strongest were 
to drag the last sledge themselves, either on ski or on 
foot, till they had reached the Pole, turned, and come 
back from depot to depot to where the dogs would 
be waiting for them. At each depot they would 
pick up the fresh fuel and food which they had left 
in store there. 

There remained only the choice of the men for 
each part of this work. Scott had from the first been 
struck with the extraordinary efficiency and cordiality 
of all his people; there was — though he admits that 
it sounds incredible — simply no friction at all : c There 
is no need to draw a veil ; there is nothing to cover.' 
All were first-rate ; and if they had not been first-rate 
to begin with, Scott's own character and his generous 



ROBERT SCOTT 237 

admiration of everyone but himself would soon have 
made them so. Of Wilson he writes : c Words must 
always fail me when I talk of Bill Wilson. I believe 
he really is the finest character I ever met— every 
quality is so solid and dependable ; cannot you 
imagine how that counts down here ? Whatever the 
matter, one knows Bill will be sound, shrewdly prac- 
tical, intensely loyal and quite unselfish. 5 In addition, 
he says that Wilson had a quiet vein of humour and 
really consummate tact, and was naturally the most 
popular member of the party. 

Bowers he describes as ' a positive treasure, 
absolutely trustworthy and prodigiously energetic 
. . . nothing seems to hurt his tough little body, and 
certainly no hardship daunts his spirit. His inde- 
fatigable zeal, his unselfishness and his inextinguish- 
able good humour made him a delightful companion 
on the march. 5 

The Soldier, or Titus Oates, as he was also called, 
was very popular too. ' A delightfully humorous 
old pessimist — striving with the ponies night and 
day, and bringing woeful accounts of their small ail- 
ments. 5 He was one of the type so familiar in every 
public school and regiment — grumbling, enduring, self- 
sacrificing : ' a very gallant gentleman. 5 

So with the rest, and not less with the men than 
the officers. Scott understood them all, because he 
loved human nature. ' The study of individual 
character, 5 he writes, c is a pleasant pastime in such 
a mixed community of thoroughly nice people, and 
the study of relations and interactions is fascinating. 5 
Of his own character we can judge from the wonderful 
Journal in which he recorded his admiration of others ; 



238 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

but there are plenty of witnesses to confirm it. ' From 
all aspects/ says Sir Clements Markham, ' Scott was 
among the most remarkable men of our time, and 
the vast number of readers of his Journal will be deeply 
impressed with the beauty of his character.' To 
this his surviving companions add that even among 
so many experts his ability seemed extraordinary ; 
his care and thoroughness in detail were unfailing : 
he was both firm and considerate, and that they 
estimated him truly is proved by their speaking of 
4 his absolute generosity. 5 

One more quality he had, most valuable in a leader. 
He was hopeful, but never too optimistic. He saw 
the meaning of a misfortune quicker than anyone, 
but he often recorded it quietly without commenting 
aloud. He was able to do this because he was never 
afraid ; he had calculated his risks, done his best to 
provide against them, and was ready to accept the 
result. His last entry before starting for the Pole 
ends thus : ' The future is in the lap of the gods ; I 
can think of nothing left undone to deserve success.' 

2. The Tale of Ten Ponies 

Scott left Cape Evans on November 1, and reached 
the Beardmore Glacier on December 10 — a distance 
of 276 statute miles. The story of this first stage 
of the journey is the story of the ten ponies upon 
whose well-being so much depended. Depots of food 
and fuel had to be dropped and cairns erected all 
the way out, so that the party returning from the Pole 
would pick up supplies every few days. The farther 
the ponies could go the less would be the distance 



ROBERT SCOTT 239 

over which the men would have to pull their own 
sledges, and it was most disappointing that, in spite 
of all the winter training and the endless trouble and 
care that Oates had taken with them, they did not 
last beyond December 9. 

They started off well enough. Christopher, as 
usual, was a little devil to harness, and Nobby had 
a fit of obstinacy half-way through the first day's 
march and needed some persuasion and a rearrange- 
ment of his load before he would go on again ; but 
they all arrived fresh and in good time at Hut Point, 
the first camping place. Scott found that the indi- 
vidual ponies varied so much in pace that he arranged 
them henceforth in three parties ; the very slow, the 
medium paced, and the fliers. 

Snatcher, who led the latter group, was to start 
last, and would probably even so end up in front of 
them all. There was also a party with the dogs ; 
and the motors had gone on ahead. 

On Thursday night, November 2, after supper 
the expedition left Hut Point in detachments as 
arranged. They lunched at midnight, and Ponting 
got his cinematograph up in time to take the rear 
guard as it came along in fine form with Snatcher 
leading. At the next camp the ponies mostly arrived 
very tired, but were quite fit again after their rest. 
Bones created a disturbance by eating Christopher's 
goggles and the protecting leather fringe on the bridle, 
and poor Christopher was left blinking in the sun. 
The party started again at 1 p.m. It was then, Scott 
tells us, ' a sweltering day, the air breathless and the 
glare intense.' And yet the temperature was -- 22°, 
and six hours earlier he had had a frost-bitten thumb. 



240 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

The following day a cheerful note was picked up 
saying all was well with the two motors which had gone 
on ahead with two sledges apiece. But four and a half 
miles farther on Scott's party found Day's motor, sledges 
and all, abandoned in the track, and a note to say that 
a cylinder had broken, and the only spare one having 
been already used, Day and Lashly, the drivers, had 
pushed on with the other motor. ' So,' writes Scott, 
c the dream of great help from the machines is at 
an end. The track of the remaining motor goes 
steadily forward, but now of course I shall expect to 
see it every hour of the march.' It was as he feared. 
On Sunday, November 5, three black dots were seen 
to the south, and on Monday, when the party got up 
to them, they proved to be the motor and two sledges 
abandoned like the first one. Another cracked cylinder 
was the cause of the trouble, and the drivers had had to 
leave the machine and go ahead as a man-hauling party. 

On this day the ponies did splendidly with full 
loads. They were evidently getting hardened to 
the work, and everyone, even Oates, felt cheered and 
optimistic about them. But on Monday night a 
blizzard blew up which lasted till late on Tuesday 
afternoon. There was a heavy fall of snow, and though 
everything possible was done to shelter the ponies, 
there seemed no way of making them comfortable. 
A blizzard always had the same withering effect on 
them, attributed by Scott to the excessively fine 
particles of snow being driven in between the hairs 
of the coat, where it melts, and in running off as water, 
carries away the animal heat. However, at midnight 
when their rugs were taken oft, they started again 
quite briskly and appeared none the worse. The 



ROBERT SCOTT 



241 



weather improved, the surface was good and they 
drew their heavy loads without any sign of tired- 
ness. Most of them stopped occasionally for a mouth- 
ful of snow, but Christopher, though more tiresome 
than ever to harness, went ahead when once he started 
without any pause. Both men and ponies revelled 
in the warm sun, and everyone was fit and cheery. 




The ponies mostly arrived very tired.' 



On the 10th, weather conditions again became 
bad. A strong headwind and a snowstorm made pro- 
gress very slow and difficult. On the 12th, Atkinson 
said Chinaman, one of the less good ponies, could not 
last more than a mile or two, but Oates thought he 
would carry on for several days still. The others were 
as well as could be expected, and Jehu, another crock, 
better than anyone had thought possible. But even 
One Ton Depot was still seventeen or eighteen miles 
ahead, and Scott began to feel very anxious about 



242 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

the ponies. c If they pull through well,' he wrote 
on the 13th, ' all the thanks will be due to Oates. I 
trust the surface and weather conditions will improve ; 
both are rank bad at present.' 

One Ton Depot — 130 geographical miles from 
Cape Evans — was reached on the 15th. It was decided 
to give the ponies a day's rest and then push on again 
thirteen geographical miles a day, marching, as before, 
mostly at night. Oates was only fairly cheerful about 
the ponies — Scott decidedly more hopeful. The loads 
were rearranged and the stronger ponies were again 
given about 500 lbs. a piece to pull ; the others about 
400 lbs. 

On the 18th, Scott writes : ' The crocks are going 
on very wonderfully. Oates gives Chinaman at least 
three days, and Wright says he may go for a week. 
This is slightly inspiriting, but how much better it 
would have been to have had ten really reliable beasts ! 
It's touch and go whether we scrape up to the Glacier ; 
meanwhile we get along somehow. At any rate the 
bright sunshine makes everything look more hopeful.' 

On the 19th the going was very bad, but things 
improved on the 20th, and the animals marched steadily 
that day and the next. Meares, the leader of the dog 
team, was beginning to look eagerly for some horse 
flesh to feed his dogs, but Atkinson and Oates were set 
on getting past the place where Shackleton killed his first 
animal before they should have to shoot one of theirs. 

On the 22nd, Scott writes : * Everything much the 
same. The ponies thinner but not much weaker. The 
crocks still going along. Jehu is now called " The 
Barrier Wonder" and Chinaman "The Thunderbolt." 
Two days more and they will be well past the place 



ROBERT SCOTT 243 

where Shackleton killed his first animal. Nobby- 
keeps his pre-eminence of condition and has now the 
heaviest load by some 50 lbs. ; most of the others 
are under 500 lbs. load, and I hope will be eased further 
yet. The dogs are in good form still, and came up 
well with their loads this morning. It looks as though 
we ought to get through to the Glacier without great 
difficulty.' 

On the 24th, when they were still some 135 geo- 
graphical miles from the Glacier, Jehu was led back 
on the track and shot, on the whole a merciful ending. 
The other two docks, Chinaman and Jimmy Pigg, 
were working splendidly and seemed, if anything, to 
improve, and things went fairly well until the 27th, 
when a heavy fall of snow and a soft surface tired the 
animals badly. There was no improvement the next 
day. The blizzard continued and drove the snow full 
in their faces. Chinaman had to be shot that night, 
but the others, though tired, had still some days' work 
in them. The Glacier was now about seventy miles 
ahead, and Scott was most anxious to get them as far 
as that if possible. 

On the 29th the sky cleared, the sun came out and 
land could be seen ahead, but the surface was very soft 
and the ponies frequently sank up to their knees. On 
December 1, Scott wrote: ' The ponies are tiring pretty 
rapidly. It is a question of days with all except Nobby. 
Yet they are outlasting the forage, and to-night, against 
some opinion, I decided Christopher must go. He has 
been shot ; less regret goes with him than the others, 
in remembrance of all the trouble he gave at the outset, 
and the unsatisfactory way he has gone of late. Here 
we leave a depot, so that no extra weight is brought 



244 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

on the other ponies ; in fact there is a slight diminution. 
Three more marches ought to bring us through.' 

The next day, after another trying march partly in 
falling snow, Victor too was shot and fed to the dogs. 
On Sunday, December 3, the party woke to yet another 
blinding blizzard and could not start till it had cleared 
at 2 p.m. Before 3 the sun disappeared and snow fell 
thickly again. The weather conditions were, as Scott 
said, preposterous, and the changes perfectly bewildering 
in their rapidity. Everything seemed to be going 
against the expedition and every mile of advance had 
to be fought for. A fresh blizzard again delayed the 
start on the 4th till 2 p.m., but the daily distance of 
thirteen geographical miles was made good by 8 p.m., 
and the ponies marched splendidly. Nevertheless, 
Michael had to be shot in the evening to provide food 
for the dog team, and the men, too, thoroughly enjoyed 
a meal of hot pony hoosh. Only five or six miles had 
been lost on the two very bad days, and with any luck 
all would yet have been well, but on the 5th the party 
woke once more to a blizzard. The misfortunes of 
the next four days are best told by extracts from 
Scott's own diary. 

6 Tuesday, December 5. — Camp 30. Noon. We 
awoke this morning to a raging, howling blizzard. 
The blows we have had hitherto have lacked the 
very fine powdery snow — that especial feature of the 
blizzard. To-day we have it fully developed. After 
a minute or two in the open one is covered from head 
to foot. The temperature is high, so that what falls 
or drives against one sticks. The ponies — head, tails, 
legs, and all parts not protected by their rugs — are 
covered with ice ; the animals are standing deep in 



ROBERT SCOTT 245 

snow, the sledges are almost covered, and huge drifts 
above the tents. We have had breakfast, rebuilt 
the walls, and are now again in our bags. One cannot 
see the next tent, let alone the land. What on earth 
does such weather mean at this time of year ? It is 
more than our share of ill-fortune, I think, but the 
luck may turn yet. 

' 11 p.m. — It has blown hard all day with quite 
the greatest snowfall I remember. The drifts about 
the tents are simply huge. The temperature was 
+ 27° this forenoon, and rose to +31° in the after- 
noon, at which time the snow melted as it fell on 
anything but the snow, and, as a consequence, there 
are pools of water on everything, the tents are wet 
through, also the wind clothes, night boots, &e. ; water 
drips from the tent poles and door, lies on the floor- 
cloth, soaks the sleeping-bags, and makes everything 
pretty wretched. . . . Yet after all it would be 
humorous enough if it were not for the seriousness 
of delay — we can't afford that, and it's real hard luck 
that it should come at such a time. 

fi Wednesday, December 6.— Camp 30. Noon. 
Miserable, utterly miserable. We have camped in 
the " Slough of Despond." The tempest rages with 
unabated violence. . . . The ponies look utterly 
desolate. Oh ! but this is too crushing, and we are 
only twelve miles from the Glacier. A hopeless feel- 
ing descends on one and is hard to fight off. What 
immense patience is needed for such occasions. 

' Thursday, December 7. — Camp 30. The storm 
continues and the situation is now serious. One 
small feed remains for the ponies after to-day, so 
that we must either march to-morrow or sacrifice the 



246 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

animals. That is not the worst ; with the help of 
the dogs we could get on without doubt. The serious 
part is that we have this morning started our Summit 
rations — that is to say, the food calculated from the 
Glacier Depot has begun. The first supporting party 
can only go on a fortnight from this date and so forth. 

c Friday, December 8. — Camp 30. Hoped against 
hope for better conditions to wake to the mournfullest 
snow and wind as usual. . . . Our case is growing 
desperate. . . . Wilson thinks the ponies finished, 
but Oates thinks they will get another march in spite 
of the surface, if it comes to-morrow. If it should 
not, we must kill the ponies to-morrow and get on 
as best we can with the men on ski and the dogs. 

c 11 p.m. — The wind has gone to the north, the 
sky is reaUy breaking at last, the sun showing less 
sparingly, and the land appearing out of the haze. . . . 
Everything looks more hopeful to-night, but nothing 
can recall four lost days.' 

Early the next morning a start was made at last, 
and Camp 31 was reached at 8 p.m. The ponies were 
by then quite done, and were all shot that night. 
c Thank God,' wrote Wilson, ' the horses are now all 
done with and we begin the heavy work ourselves.' 
Camp 31 received the name of Shambles Camp in 
memory of this painful episode. 

3. At the South Pole 

The ex-motor party had already turned back 
on November 24, and three man-hauled sledges left 
Shambles Camp on December 10 ; the first was drawn 
by Scott, Wilson, Oates and Edgar Evans ; the second 



ROBERT SCOTT 247 

by Edward Evans, Atkinson, Wright and Lashly, and 
the third by Bowers, Cherry-Garrard, Crean, and 
Keohane. The dogs, drawing another 800 lbs. of stores, 
accompanied them until the afternoon of the 11th, and 
then they, too, turned back. 

From Lower Glacier Dep&t, left on December 11, 
the three sledge parties climbed steadily up the Beard- 
more Glacier and reached the summit, 8,000 feet up, 
on the 21st. It was a terrible pull to begin with. 
The runners of the sledges became coated with a thin 
film of ice so that they would not glide, and both 
men and sledges sank deep into the soft snow which, 
owing to the recent storm, filled the lower valley. 
Again and again the parties got bogged, and they 
would not have made any headway at all but for their 
skis, which now proved invaluable. One or two members 
of the expedition began to show signs of being over- 
tired, and to add to their other troubles some of them 
got bad attacks of snow blindness. On the 13th, two 
of the parties had to resort to relay work. The snow 
had become wet and sticky and the men struggled on 
soaked in perspiration and thoroughly breathless. By 
camping time at 7 p.m. only a bare four miles had been 
covered — ' a most damnably dismal day, 5 as Scott 
describes it. 

The next day things improved a little. The covering 
of snow over the ice grew thinner as they mounted, 
there were fewer stoppages, and the re-starting was 
much easier e But on the 15th snow fell again for some 
hours, interrupting the march and making the surface 
again very bad. 

On the 17th the luck really seemed to be on the 
turn. They were now 3,500 feet above the Barrier 



248 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

and the going was better, though a sharp look-out 
had to be kept for crevasses, which were very numerous 
in some places. Apart from sore lips and snow blind- 
ness everyone was very fit and cheerful and feeling 
well fed, for the Summit ration proved an excellent 
one and most satisfying. The crampons, too, invented 
by P.O. Evans for this part of the journey on the rough 
ice, were a great success. 

On the 19th, Scott wrote: ' Days like this put heart 
into one, 5 and on the 21st they camped at Upper Glacier 
Depot, 'practically on the summit and up to date in 
the provision line.' There seemed a very good chance 
now of getting through. 

On the 22nd the first supporting party turned back. 
Scott had told off Atkinson, Wright, Cherry-Garrard 
and Keohane as being the four who had suffered most 
from the hardships of the journey. Nevertheless their 
disappointment was great. The two remaining sledge 
parties went ahead very well to begin with, doing 10| 
and 8| geographical miles in the day. Crevasses were 
troublesome at times, but on the whole Scott was very 
cheerful, and for the first time the goal seemed really in 
sight. He found that he and his companions could 
pull their present loads faster and farther than he had 
ever expected, and a fair share of good weather was 
the one thing left to pray for. 

On Christmas Eve Lashly very suddenly went down 
a crevasse, nearly dragging the others with him. But 
he was rescued none the worse and quite undisturbed 
by his fall. Christmas Day was marked by chocolate 
and raisins at lunch and a grand four-course supper 
of c pemmican with slices of horse meat flavoured with 
onion and curry powder and thickened with biscuits; 




The two remaining eledge parties went ahead very well.' 



250 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

then an arrowroot, cocoa and biscuit hoosh sweetened ; 
then a plum-pudding ; then cocoa with raisins, and 
finally a dessert of caramels and ginger.' After this 
feast it was difficult to move, and everyone felt thoroughly 
warm and slept splendidly. 

During the next few days more crevasses and 
disturbances were met with and something went wrong 
with one of the sledges. The loading was not right 
and had to be readjusted. Once this was readjusted 
the second party were able to keep up again. The 
distances covered each day were satisfactory, but the 
marches were becoming terribly monotonous, and the 
strain was especially great for Scott, who was responsible 
for steering the course and so could not let his thoughts 
wander. 

On December 31 a week's provisions for both units 
was dumped and the place named Three Degree Dep6t. 
Then the two sledges were stripped and rebuilt as 
10-foot instead of 12-foot sledges. Under the conditions, 
with a temperature of 10°, it was a difficult and trying 
job, and was admirably tackled and completed by 
P.O. Evans with the help of Crean. The smaller 
sledges travelled well, but the second party were clearly 
tiring now, and on January 3, when they were still 
150 miles from the Pole, Scott reorganised for the 
last time and sent back Lieutenant Evans, Lashly and 
Crean. Bowers was to make a fifth in Scott's tent. 
Lieutenant Evans was terribly disappointed, but took 
it very well. Poor Crean wept, and Lashly, too, found 
it very hard to have to turn back. The story of their 
awful experiences on the return journey, and of Evans' 
illness and rescue, may be read elsewhere. 

Petty Officer Evans belonged to the chosen five. 



ROBERT SCOTT 251 

He was a most admirable worker and was responsible 
not only for the ski and crampons but for all the 
sledges, harness, tents and sleeping-bags, and no one 
had ever been heard to make a complaint about any 
of the things he had made. 

Bowers was responsible for the stores and for 
the meteorological record. On this last part of the 
march he was also photographer and observer. No 
kind of work came amiss to him, and he used to work 
out sights coiled up in his bag at night long after 
the others were asleep, and yet, in spite of his short 
legs, he never seemed tired. Scott wrote of him on 
January 8 : ' Little Bowers remains a marvel — he is 
thoroughly enjoying himself. 5 

Oates had been invaluable with the ponies, and 
now he took his share in all the heavy work, botli of 
pulling and of making camp, and so far he seemed to 
be standing the hardships as well as anyone. 

Of Wilson, Scott could not speak warmly enough. 
He never wavered from start to finish and, as doctor, 
devoted himself entirely to helping his companions 
in every possible way, often at great cost to himself. 
He suffered a good deal from snow blindness, but was 
invariably cheerful. 

On Scott himself, as leader, rested the whole respon- 
sibility of the expedition and the lives of his com- 
panions. He had to make every decision connected 
with the march, from the minutest detail of food 
rations or clothing to the serious problems of direction 
and guidance. However tired or despairing he might 
feel at times, he must always appear cheerful and 
hopeful ; he must be the first to wake in the morning 
and the last to turn in at night ; and he must know 



252 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

how to get the very best out of his companions under 
all circumstances. Splendidly he fulfilled all these 
requirements ; his companions had entire confidence 
in him and he in them. 

Such were the five men who now pushed on towards 
the Pole with 150 miles of hard pulling in front of them 
and the chance of finding the Norwegian flag already 
flying when they arrived. 

On January 4 and 5, things seemed to be going 
so extraordinarily smoothly that Scott began to 
wonder if such good fortune could last, and what 
new obstacle was in store for them. Success seemed 
to be coming nearer and nearer every hour. But 
the expected obstacles soon made their appearance. 
The surface again became rough and broken as the 
result of a mass of sastrugi, the name given to the snow 
formations formed by the winds over the surface. The 
marches were very tiring, and P.O. Evans, too, had a 
nasty cut on his hand which he got while repairing 
the sledges. 

They were now past Shackleton's farthest point, 
and all that was ahead of them was new. The march- 
ing became more and more monotonous, and on 
January 10, only 10*8 miles were covered in a terribly 
hard day's work. The surface was 4 beyond words, 5 
quite covered with sandy snow. * Only 85 miles from 
the Pole,' says Scott, ' but it's going to be a stiff pull 
both ways apparently ; still we do make progress, which 
is something.' 

On the 11th, they did eleven miles, but at a fear- 
ful cost. ' About 74 miles from the Pole — can we 
keep this up for seven days ? It takes it out of us 
like anything.' On the 12th they marched nearly 



ROBERT SCOTT 253 

nine hours for 10*7 miles, and were all chilled from 
exhaustion. Admiration for each other kept them 
up. ' Little Bowers is wonderful,' says Scott ; c in 
spite of my protest he would take sights after we had 
camped to-night,' and this was the more remarkable 
because Bowers, one of whose ski had been lost, had 
marched all day in the soft snow while the others had 
had a comparatively easy time. On the 13th, Scott 
again remarks that, though the rest would be in a poor 
way without ski, Bowers still manages to struggle 
through the soft snow ' without tiring his short legs.' 
Next day, however, he seems to have realised that the 
short legs were tiring, and in a single casual remark, 
his own strength and self-sacrifice are allowed to slip 
out as if they were nothing unusual. ' The steering 
was awfully difficult and trying ; very often I could 
see nothing, and Bowers on my shoulders directed 
me. Under such circumstances it is an immense 
help to be pulling on ski.' 

On the 14th, Oates was feeling the cold, but all 
were fit, and felt that they might pull through if only 
they could have a few days of fine weather. On the 
15th, they made their last depot, and with the sledge 
load thus reduced they did over twelve miles in the 
day. They had now only two long marches to reach 
the Pole, and nine days' provisions with them, so that 
it looked a certain thing. But there was always 
6 the appalling possibility, the sight of the Norwegian 
flag forestalling ours.' This dread had been sleeping 
in their minds all through, and now that the critical 
moment was upon them it woke up and became restless. 

The next day, January 16, was a very trying one, 
tossing them from hope to deep disappointment. In 



254 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

the morning they marched well and covered seven and a 
half miles. In the afternoon they set off again in high 
spirits, but about the second hour of the march Bowers 
sighted what he feared was a cairn, though he argued 
that it must be a sastrugus, or knob of snow-drift. 
Half an hour later he detected a black speck ; that, at 
any rate, could not be snow. The party marched on it 
with beating hearts. When they got nearer they found 
that it was a black flag tied to a sledge bearer and 
standing straight up out of the snow-field. 6 The 
worst has happened,' writes Scott, ' or nearly the worst.* 
We can imagine the mingled curiosity and misery with 
which they examined the place ; near by were the 
remains of a camp, with sledge tracks coming and 
going, and ski tracks, and traces of dogs' paws — many 
dogs. c This told us the whole story. The Norwegians 
have forestalled us and are first at the Pole. It is a 
terrible disappointment, and I am very sorry for my 
loyal companions. 5 

But they finished the course ; that went without 
saying. Next day they started at 7.30 ; none of them 
had slept much after the shock of such a discovery # 
For some way they followed the Norwegian tracks — 
there were only two men, as far as they could make out. 
Then they abandoned this trail, which was going too 
far west, and finished a march of fourteen miles due 
south. Now that the hope of priority was gone, the 
place seemed ' awful and terrible,' but they had a 
specially good meal — \ a fat Polar hoosh ' — and little 
Bowers laid himself out to get sights in specially difficult 
circumstances. Scott thought of the struggle home- 
wards, and wrote : ' I wonder if we can do it.' 

On Thursday, January 18, they summed up all 



ROBERT SCOTT 



255 



their observations and decided that they must be 
now one mile beyond the Pole and three miles to the 
right of it. They set out accordingly, and two miles 
from camp, and one and a half miles from the Pole, 
they found a small tent containing a record of Roald 




They found it was a black flag tied to a sledge bearer.' 



Amundsen having been there on December 16, 1911, 
with four companions. There was also a note from 
Amundsen to Scott, asking him to forward a letter to 
King Haakon ! 

Scott, in his turn, left a note to say that he and his 
party had visited the c^nt. Meantime Bowers was 
photographing and Wilson sketching. Then a cairn 
was built, the Union Jack was hoisted, and the party 



256 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

took a photograph of itself, Bowers pulling the string. 
They all look grim, and it is not to be wondered at ; but 
they were not grudging honour to those who had won 
the race. Scott's entry says : ' There is no doubt that 
our predecessors have made thoroughly sure of their 
mark, and fully carried out their programme.' He 
adds : ' Well, we have turned our back now on the goal 
of our ambition, and must face our 800 miles of solid 
dragging — and good-bye to most of the day-dreams ! ' 
He did not foresee that the dreams would long survive 
the dreamer. 

4. The Race for Life 

It is sometimes assumed that self-preservation is 
the strongest of all driving forces ; we hear it said that 
a man was seen running ' as if he were running for 
his life.' But with men of real power it would seem 
that their greatest efforts are made not when they 
are seeking to save themselves, but when they are 
risking everything for their country or each other, or 
in some other cause of honour or devotion. Scott and 
his companions are certainly an example of this ; they 
marched bravely homeward for their lives, but without 
that strength and elation which had sustained them 
on the outward journey, when they were inspired by 
the hope of winning a coveted honour for the country 
they served. And they died without misery, because 
they had many consolations, such as do not come to 
men who have been thinking only of themselves. They 
were not losing all, for they had not played for safety. 

They started back on January 19, and from the 
first they found the journey ' dreadfully tiring and 
monotonous.' On the 20th, with a favourable wind. 



ROBERT SCOTT 257 

they tried sailing, and at first went along at a greatly- 
increased pace ; but they soon got into drifted snow 
which clogged their ski. Bowers was even worse off, 
till he could recover his ski ; and to-day it is noted 
that Oates is feeling the cold more than the others. 
Still they did eighteen and a half miles, and talked of 
catching the ship. 

Next day trouble began ; a blizzard was blowing 
in the morning ; they could not march for fear of 
losing the track, and when they got off at last they 
could only do six miles. On the 22nd their march of 
fourteen and a half miles was the most tiring they had 
yet had, and their ski boots began to show signs of wear. 
On the 23rd they sailed again, but were halted by the 
discovery that Evans 5 nose was frost-bitten. His fingers, 
too, were badly blistered, and he was very much annoyed 
with himself, which was not a good sign. Next day 
they were stopped again by a blizzard. c I don't 
like the look of it/ says Scott. 4 Is the weather break- 
ing up ? If so, God help us. ... I don't like the easy 
way in which Oates and Evans get frost-bitten.' But 
next day those two were as bad again, and Wilson was 
suffering tortures from his eyes. The succession of 
blizzards seemed likely to continue, and the cold damp 
they brought was very exhausting, 

On the 27th they found their sleeping-bags getting 
slowly but surely wetter, and food shorter. On the 
28th they were hungrier still, and getting c pretty 
thin, especially Evans,' but none of them were feeling 
worked out. Next day was a good one, wind favour- 
able and track visible ; but on the 30th, troubles 
began again. Wilson strained a tendon in his leg, 
painfully ; he was very plucky over it, but it made 



258 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

Scott serious, for the lives of all hung on the health 
of each — they would never abandon their sick or 
wounded. ' To add to the trouble/ he writes, 4 Evans 
has dislodged two finger-nails to-night ; his hands 
are really bad, and to my surprise he shows signs of 
losing heart over it.' They had already picked up 
three articles dropped on the way out — Oates's pipe, 
Bowers' fur mits, and Evans' night boots. Now, on 
the 31st, they found Bowers' ski, left behind on 
December 31, and very glad they were to recover it. 
They reached Three Degree Depot, too, and were able 
to increase their rations. But Scott's anxiety con- 
tinued, and on February 2 he himself became a casualty 
by falling heavily on a very slippery surface and hurting 
his shoulder. There were now three injured men out 
of five, and the most troublesome surfaces yet to 
come. 

On February 4, Evans fell twice ; the second time 
Scott fell with him, into a crevasse. After this, Evans 
became c rather dull and incapable ' — he had con- 
cussion from his fall — and next day he was c a good 
deal crocked up,' with his nose and fingers frost-bitten. 
He was now the chief anxiety, and his wounds were 
going wrong ; it was a great relief when, on the 7th, 
the Upper Glacier Depot was reached and the Summit 
journey was ended. ' I think,' says Scott, c another 
week might have had a very bad effect on P.O. Evans, 
who is going steadily downhill.' 

They were now about to get on to rock after fourteen 
weeks on ice, and in spite of their fatigue they deter- 
mined not to neglect the scientific side of their enter- 
prise. Scott steered in for Mount Darwin, and Bowers 
procured specimens of the rock, a close-grained granite. 



ROBERT SCOTT 259 

Then they went down the moraine, spending the whole 
day geologising among seams of coal, leaf -fossils, 
pieces of limestone from no one knew where, and lumps 
of pure white quartz. Altogether a most interesting 
afternoon, and the relief of being out of the wind in- 
expressible. Two good days and nights followed, and 
Scott notes c a great change in all faces.' 

Then came a week of disaster. The beginning of 
it was a fatal decision to change the direction of the 
march and steer east. The party got into a regular 
trap, plunged desperately forward on ski and only 
recovered the track after twelve hours of struggling. 
Some miles had been lost, and an effort had to be made 
next day to catch up. Again a wrong turn was made, 
and at 9 p.m. they camped ' in the worst place of all,' 
with rations running low. It was only at midday 
on the 13th, that at last they reached Middle Glacier 
Depot, and replenished their store. 

Next day they could only do six and a half miles. 
There was no getting away from the fact that they were 
not going strong. Wilson's leg was troublesome ; Evans 
had blistered a foot badly, and was apparently going 
from bad to worse, besides suffering from want of 
plentiful food. Two days more and he was nearly 
broken down — absolutely changed from his normal 
self-reliant self, and stopping repeatedly on some 
trivial excuse. On the 17th, he looked a little better 
to start with — but soon worked his ski shoes adrift, 
and had to leave the sledge. An hour later the others 
waited for him, and he came up very slowly. In 
another half-hour he dropped out again, and was 
cautioned by Scott, to whom he replied cheerfully. 
But he did not come up in time for lunch, and the others 



260 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

all went back for him. Scott reached him first and was 
shocked to find him on his knees, with hands un- 
covered and frost-bitten, and a wild look in his eyes. 
He could only say that he thought he had fainted. 
Wilson, Bowers and Scott went back for the sledge, 
Gates remained with him ; before he could be got 
away he was unconscious, and by half an hour after 
midnight he was dead. It was a terrible thing for 
a small party in such extreme danger to lose a com- 
panion and friend, and it hardly made it less terrible 
to reflect that there could not have been a better 
ending to the anxieties of the past week. With a 
sick man on their hands at such a distance from home, 
the plight of all would have been too desperate for 
endurance. 

5. The Last March 

After the terrible event at Lower Glacier Depot, 
the four survivors gave themselves five hours' sleep 
and then went to their old Shambles Camp. There they 
found plenty of horse beef, and with the increased 
rations new life seemed to come at once. They took 
another good night's sleep and spent the next morning 
in shifting to a new sledge and fitting it up with mast 
and sail. In the afternoon they started again with 
renewed hope. But the surface proved to be as bad 
as their worst fears — soft, loose snow like desert sand, 
and a long struggle only brought them four and a half 
miles forward. 

That evening Scott balanced his chances. In some 
ways things were improving — the sleeping-bags were 
drying, and the party had better food and better health. 
The uncertain element was the weather ; the lateness 



ROBERT SCOTT 



261 



of the season caused some little alarm, and the distance 
to be done was still formidable ; the four stages, to South 
Barrier Depot, Middle Barrier Depot, Mount Hooper, 
and One Ton Depot, would take seven days each — not 




1 Scott reached him first ' 



less, and quite possibly more. Beyond that there were 
two more stages, to Bluff Depot and Corner Camp ; 
but these were not counted, for at One Ton Depot, 
if not earlier, they would find Cherry-Garrard waiting 
for them with the dogs. One Ton Depot was therefore 
the goal ; there lay safety, and they had a month to 
reach it. 



262 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

By the end of the fourth day, February 22, the 
position looked gloomy ; everything depended on 
finding and keeping the old track from cairn to cairn, 
and already they had lost it. They found it again 
next day, thanks to Bowers' wonderful sharp eyes, 
and reached the depot on the 24th up to time. But 
there were causes for depression. A note left for them 
by Lieutenant Edward Evans sounded anxious — he 
was already, though he did not say so, stricken with 
scurvy. Then Wilson was suffering fearfully from 
snow blindness ; and there was an unexpected and 
very alarming shortage of fuel, the oil in store having 
leaked from the effect of extreme cold. c It is a race/ 
says Scott, ' between the season and hard conditions, 
and our fitness and good food.' Four days later he 
adds : ' There is no doubt the middle of the Barrier is 
a pretty awful locality.' But on March 1 they reached 
Middle Barrier Depot in bright sunshine and nearly 
up to time. 

But at this point the tide turned against them — 
ominously at first, and then, as they struggled on, so 
strongly and definitely that nothing was left for personal 
hope, only loyalty to each other and the determination 
to hold up the standard of English honour and en- 
durance. ' First,' says Scott, [ we found a shortage 
of oil ; with most rigid economy it can scarcely carry 
us to the next depot. Second, Titus Oates disclosed 
his feet, the toes showing very bad indeed, evidently 
bitten by the late temperatures. The third blow came 
in the night, when the wind, which we had hailed with 
some joy, brought dark overcast weather. It fell below 
— 40° in the night, and this morning it took 1 \ hours to 
get our foot gear on.' 



ROBERT SCOTT 263 

But their courage was unbroken. On March 3 they 
pulled four and a quarter hours and only covered four and 
a half miles. Scott's Journal becomes more and more 
wonderful as things get worse. c God help us, we can't 
keep up this pulling, that is certain. Amongst ourselves 
we are unendingly cheerful, but what each man feels in 
his heart I can only guess.' His great anxiety now was 
for Oates's health ; a possible further shortage of fuel 
at the next depot combined with a snap of colder 
weather would probably be more than he could stand. 
c I don't know what I should do,' Scott writes, 4 if 
Wilson and Bowers were not so determinedly cheerful 
over things.' 

On March 5 the entry is more depressed : c Our fuel 
dreadfully low and the poor Soldier nearly done. We 
none of us expected these terribly low temperatures, 
and of the rest of us Wilson is feeling them most — mainly, 
I fear, from his self-sacrificing devotion in doctoring 
Oates's feet. . . . The others, all of them, are un- 
endingly cheerful when in the tent.' On March 6: 

* Poor Oates is unable to pull — sits on the sledge when 
we are track searching — he is wonderfully plucky, as 
his feet must be giving him great pain. He makes no 
complaint, but his spirits only come up in spurts now, 
and he grows more silent in the tent.' On March 7: 

* One of Oates's feet very bad this morning ; he is 
wonderfully brave. We still talk of what we will do 
together at home.' 

On the 9th they reached Mount Hooper Depot, and 
found a shortage of stores all round. Scott says 
stoutly : 4 I don't know that anyone is to blame. The 
dogs which would have been our salvation have evi- 
dently failed.' He was right there; the dogs under 



264 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

Cherry-Garrard had been waiting at One Ton Dep6t, 
held up by a four-day blizzard ; then, having ex- 
hausted their spare provisions, they were obliged to 
turn back. No one was to blame, and Scott's freedom 
from bitterness is one more proof of his greatness as 
a leader. 

The entry for Sunday, March 11, runs as follows : 
4 Titus Oates is very near the end, one feels. What 
he or we will do, God only knows. We discussed the 
matter after breakfast ; he is a fine brave fellow and 
understands the situation, but he practically asked 
for advice. Nothing could be said but to urge him 
to march as long as he could. One satisfactory result 
to the discussion ; I practically ordered Wilson to hand 
over the means of ending our troubles to us, so that 
any one of us may know how to do so. Wilson had 
no choice between doing so and our ransacking the 
medicine case. We have 30 opium tabloids apiece, 
and he is left with a tube of morphine. So far the 
tragical side of our story. 5 This is not a passage that 
can be enlarged upon in words ; but the more deeply 
it is penetrated the more clearly will be seen the 
characteristic gifts of the man who wrote it — wisdom* 
loyalty, delicacy, and self-restraint. 

So far as it was possible for him to tell the rest 
of the story, he tells it incomparably. c Wednesday, 
March 14. — We must go on, but now the making of 
every camp must be more difficult and dangerous. 
It must be near the end, but a pretty merciful end. 
Poor Oates got it again in the foot. I shudder to 
think what it will be like to-morrow. . . . Truly awful 
outside the tent. Must fight it out to the last biscuit, 
but can't reduce rations.' 



ROBERT SCOTT 265 

The next entry is three days later. c Friday, 
March 16, or Saturday, 17. — Lost track of dates, but 
think the last correct. Tragedy all along the line. 
At lunch, the day before yesterday, poor Titus Oates 
said he couldn't go on ; he proposed we should leave 
him in his sleeping-bag. That we could not do, and 
induced him to come on, on the afternoon march. 
In spite of its awful nature for him he struggled on, 
and we made a few miles. At night he was worse, and 
we knew that the end had come. Should this be 
found I want these facts recorded. Oates's last 
thoughts were of his mother, but immediately before 
he took pride in thinking that his regiment would 
be pleased with the bold way in which he met his 
death. We can testify to his bravery. He has borne 
intense suffering for weeks without complaint, and to 
the very last was able and willing to discuss outside 
subjects. He did not — would not — give up hope to 
the very end. He was a brave soul. This was the end. 
He slept through the night before last, hoping not 
to wake ; but he woke in the morning — yesterday. 
It was blowing a blizzard. He said ' I am just 
going outside and may be some time. 5 He went out 
into the blizzard and we have not seen him since. . . . 
We knew that poor Oates was walking to his death, 
but though we tried to dissuade him we knew it was 
the act of a brave man and an English gentleman. 
We all hope to meet the end with a similar spirit, and 
assuredly the end is not far.' 

It was not far. By lunch next day the three 
survivors were twenty-one miles from the depot, and 
nearly worn out. Scott's right foot had now gone — 
two days before he had been the fittest, but a spoonful of 



266 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

curry powder with his pemmican had caused indigestion 
and the inevitable frost-bite had followed. Amputa- 
tion was now the least he could hope for, and that only 
if the deadness did not spread. 

On March 19 the party reached their sixtieth camp 
from the Pole, and were within eleven miles of safety. 
But there the blizzard stopped them. As a forlorn 
hope, Wilson and Bowers proposed to go on and bring 
back fuel for Scott ; but the blizzard made this im- 
possible. On the night of the 23rd, death stared them 
straight in the face ; they had no fuel left, and only 
two days' food. ' Must be near the end,' writes Scott. 
6 Have decided it shall be natural — we shall march for 
the depot and die in our tracks.' 

This was not possible. On the 29th they were 
still there, still blizzard -bound, still just alive, still 
undefeated in spirit. Scott's last entry is in keeping 
with all that he has written in his Journal. ' Every 
day we have been ready to start for our depot 11 miles 
away, but outside the door of the tent it remains a scene 
of whirling drift. I do not think we can hope for any 
better things now. We shall stick it out to the end, 
but we are getting weaker, of course, and the end 
cannot be far. It seems a pity, but I do not think 
I can write more. 

*R. Scott. 

' For God's sake look after our people.' 

When the search party reached the place eight 
months later, Wilson and Bowers were found lying 
quite naturally, shut up in their sleeping-bags. Scott, 
the master spirit, had died later ; he had thrown back 
the flaps of his sleeping-bag and opened his coat. His 



ROBERT SCOTT 267 

arm was flung across Wilson, as if in a last gesture of 
affection. 

In the tent, besides his Journal, he had left farewell 
letters to his friends and family, and a message to the 
Public, giving an estimate of the disaster and its causes. 
All these are of the same admirable quality — varying 
tones of the same unshaken voice. These passages 
will exemplify all. 

* I want to tell you that we have missed getting 
through by a narrow margin which was justifiably 
within the risk of such a journey. . . . After all, we 
have given our lives for our country — we have 
actually made the longest journey on record, and we 
have been the first Englishmen at the South Pole. 
You must understand that it is too cold to write 
much. 

6 It's a pity the luck doesn't come our way, 
because every detail of equipment is right. I shall 
not have suffered any pain, but leave the world 
fresh from harness and full of good health and 
vigour. 

c Since writing the above we got to within 11 miles 
of our depot, with one hot meal and two days' cold 
food. We should have got through but have been held 
for four days by a frightful storm. I think the best 
chance has gone. We have decided not to kill ourselves, 
but to fight to the last for that depot, but in the fighting 
there is a painless end. 

6 Make the boy interested in natural history if you 
can ; it is better than games ; they encourage it at 
some schools. I know you will keep him in the open 
air. Above all, he must guard, and you must guard 
him, against indolence. Make him a strenuous man. 



268 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

I had to force myself into being strenuous, as you know 
— had always an inclination to be idle. 

4 What lots and lots I could tell you of this journey. 
How much better it has been than lounging in too great 
comfort at home.' 



VIII. ALEXANDER WOLLASTON 

1. The Mountains of the Moon 

The scientific temperament and the exploring impulse 
go well together, and when both are inherited they 
make a very strong combination, Alexander Wollaston 
is a typical example. His father, George Hyde Wol- 
laston, came of an old Midland family, with a name well 
known in the scientific world for some two centuries : 
a lover of science and of languages, and so accomplished 
a traveller that though typically English in character 
and of Scandinavian stature and appearance, he was 
frequently mistaken by the natives of Switzerland and 
Italy for one of themselves, when he came wandering 
among them. He was for many years a master at 
Clifton, and it was there that his son was born in 1875, 
Sandy, as his friends called him, in his early youth 
made choice of the medical profession. He went from 
Clifton to King's College, Cambridge, then to the London 
Hospital, and became in due course a qualified member 
of the College of Surgeons and the College of Physicians. 
But if he ever thought of passing his life as an ordinary 
doctor he was reckoning without his ancestors. The 
first bit of work that came his way was the chance to go as 
surgeon with a private expedition to the Soudan. This 
was decisive ; as in Younghusband's case, the inherited 
impulse rushed to the front, took charge of the rest of 
his character, and made a career for him. He returned 

269 



270 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

from the Soudan only to start again for Lapland, and 
after that to the Far East. In short, he became an 
inveterate travellc t\ There are by now few regions in 
which he has not discovered or observed birds, beasts* 
and flowers, and the names of the out-of-the-way cities, 
coasts, and islands where he has been reported from 
time to time would make quite a pattern on the map 
of the world. Finally his war service as a naval surgeon 
took him up into the Arctic Circle, down to the Cape 
of Good Hope and German East Africa, and up again 
to Murmansk and Archangel. 

But of all these travels we have at present no account, 
and it is time to turn to the two books w r hich contain 
the record of his adventures in Equatorial Africa and 
in New Guinea. They cover the six years 1905 to 1911, 
which may be called the years of his apprenticeship, 
for in them he was learning the business of a scientific 
expedition of discovery, and qualifying himself for the 
position of leader which fell to him afterwards. The 
first of these two expeditions was called ' The Ruwenzori 
Expedition,' and to give any account of it we must 
begin by explaining what and where is Ruwenzori, and 
why it was a good objective for scientific discoverers. 

Down to the end of the nineteenth century very 
little was known by Europeans of the vast range of 
mountains which lies between the lakes Albert Edward 
and Albert Nyanza. It was, as Wollaston says, ' the 
least know r n mountain region in Africa.' The first 
white man to see it was probably Sir Samuel Baker 
in 1864 ; he describes a distant view of a range which 
he saw while exploring Lake Albert. He calls it ' The 
Blue Mountains to the South ' — he knew no other name 
for it, and he was evidently not aware of its true 



ALEXANDER WOLLASTON 271 

character. ■ It was not until 1887, when Stanley came 
from the Congo on the Emin Relief Expedition, that 
the mountains were definitely recognised as a snow 
range, and for very nearly twenty years more they 
remained as little known and as mysterious as ever.' 
Attempts were made on several occasions to penetrate 
into what were now known as c The Mountains of the 
Moon, 5 but they were made by amateurs or by parties 
with other objects in view, who turned aside to try a 
formidable adventure for which they were not fully 
equipped. The first of these attempts was made in 
1889 by Lieutenant Stairs, a member of Stanley's own 
expedition ; but he only succeeded in reaching a height 
of 10,677 feet on one of the western slopes of the range. 
In 1891 Dr. Stuhlmann did a little better; he ascended 
13,326 feet on the same side and took photographs of 
the highest peaks, but he failed to reach the snow-line. 
Scott Elliot followed in 1895 in the same direction, and 
also explored four valleys on the eastern side, reaching 
the watershed in two different places ; but he too 
stopped short* of the snow level. The first real success 
was achieved in 1900 by J. E. S. Moore, known as 
4 Tanganyika Moore ' : he climbed to the summit of 
one of the ridges of Kiyanja (Mount Baker), thereby 
reaching the snow and proving beyond doubt the 
existence of glaciers in this huge chain. 

This discovery only made the mountains more 
attractive to adventurers. Sir Harry Johnston followed 
Tanganyika Moore in the same year and reached almost 
the same point. Three years later Mr. and Mrs. Fischer 
climbed to the foot of the Mubuku glacier — the first 
and only time a European woman has readied the 
snow line in these mountains. Then in 1905 a really 



272 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

serious attempt was made by a party of skilled moun- 
taineers, headed by Mr. Douglas Freshfield, President 
of the Alpine Club, with Mr. Arnold Mumm, and a 
Swiss guide from Zermatt. It seemed impossible that 
so well equipped an expedition could fail ; but they 
were misinformed as to the rainy season, and were 
completely defeated by wet and foggy weather. Two 
months later Herr Grauer and a party of missionaries 
climbed a ridge 14,813 feet high, and an Englishman, 
Mr. R. B. Woosnam, reached the same point a week 
or two after them, while climbing alone to collect birds. 
It will be seen from this short summary how little 
and how much had been achieved in the twenty years. 
The Mountains of the Moon (now known by the name 
of c Ruwenzori 5 ) had become famous, but they had not 
yet been climbed or mapped, nor had their wild life 
been scientifically examined ; the region was still a 
virgin stronghold of nature, a vast chain of fortresses 
waiting for the conquerors who must come, sooner or 
later, from the Old World. Two things, however, were 
certain — these mountains, with their snowy peaks of 
nearly 17,000 feet, were an objective worthy of the 
best mountaineers of Europe, and it would take both 
skill and courage to attack them ; secondly, there could 
be no doubt that a range so wide, so lofty, and so isolated 
must be the home of an immense number of trees, 
flowers, and birds, many of which would probably be 
new to the explorer. It is not to be wondered at that 
expeditions were being proposed or discussed in several 
quarters ; and two were in fact starting almost at the 
same moment, one from Italy and one from England. 
The Duke of the Abruzzi, an experienced climber with 
every possible resource and equipment, was bent on 



ALEXANDER WOLLASTON 273 

making the first ascent of the highest peaks ; and a 
British party, organised by Mr. W. R. Ogilvie Grant of 
the British (Natural History) Museum, was being sent 
out to collect specimens of the fauna and flora of the 
district. This work, though it involved of course a 
great deal of climbing in new and rough places, was 
not intended to include proiessional mountaineering 
ascents. But when Mr. Woosnam, the leader of the 
expedition, engaged Dr. Wollaston to go with him 
as medical officer and botanical and entomological 
collector, he was, in fact, whether he knew it or not, 
entering his party for the great Ruwenzori race, for 
Wollaston was a keen member of the Alpine Club, an 
experienced climber, and destined, though he did not 
win outright, to give the Duke of the Abruzzi the lead 
which was necessary for success. 

2. The Journey Out 

The British Museum Expedition was just starting 
from England in October 1905, when Wollaston heard 
of it for the first time and hurried off to Mr. Ogilvie 
Grant to offer his services. Fortunately the place of 
doctor and botanist was just the one which remained 
unfilled, and he was told that he could make his pre- 
parations thoroughly and follow by the next boat in 
a month's time. There were difficulties — he had just 
accepted a tamer appointment at home ; but he begged 
off that and followed his manifest destiny. Early in 
November he took ship from Genoa for Mombasa. It 
was a vile ship, the Reichspostdampfer Markgraf, 
uncomfortable, unclean, and unsafe, and it seemed 
odd that for an Englishman going to an English Colony 



274 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

the only choice should lie between the Austrian Lloyd, 
the French Messageries Maritimes, and the German 
East African Line. But that was part of the old 
order of things, and so too was the fact that when 
Mombasa was reached, on the twentieth day out, the 
only three steamers to be seen in the harbour were all 
flying the German flag. No one can ever say that we 
kept our Empire to ourselves. 

From Mombasa Wollaston went inland, of course 
by the Uganda railway, through a country swarming 
with hartebeestes, wildebeestes, gazelles, ostriches, and 
zebras, and haunted too, though less visibly, by lions, 
leopards, rhinoceros, and giraffes. Beyond Nairobi came 
the surprise of the journey — 6 the lovely and mysterious 
Lake Naivasha.' The mystery does not lie in the 
great slumbering volcano of Longonot, with its lava- 
covered slopes scored by the rains into a thousand 
gullies, nor in the jets of steam which spout up through 
the scrub, nor in the springs of boiling water. But 
here is a lake of beautiful fresh water, with no apparent 
outlet ; even in the heaviest rains or the longest drought 
it keeps an almost equal level, hardly rising or falling 
at all ; and there are many stories told by the natives 
of underground rivers and of water heard falling into 
vast caverns. There is a mystery too about the origin 
of the lake, and it is said that the grandfather of the 
oldest inhabitant remembered a time when there was 
no lake there. 

Anyhow there it is now, and Wollaston fell in love 
with it at first sight. c To the wandering naturalist, 5 
he says, c Naivasha is one of the happy hunting grounds 
that he has dreamed of but never hoped to see.' There 
on an island towards the south-east corner of the lake 



ALEXANDER WOLLASTON 275 

he camped for a short time, a mile from the mainland 
and right in the midst of long-legged stilts and whistling 
greenshanks and English willow-wrens, and herons and 
ibises and waterbuck, and hippos crushing and grunting 
through the reed beds. ; The margin of the lake is 
fringed with sedges, tall reeds, and papyrus ; beyond 
the papyrus is a marvel of water-lilies, pink and white 
and blue, but mostly blue. Where the shallows extend 
far into the lake, there may be near a mile of water- 
lilies. In the morning, when the breeze ruffles the water 
and breaks up the reflections, the green of the trans- 
lucent up-turned leaves, the blue of the flowers, the 
orange of the submerged stems and the almost amethyst 
light of the water, together make a very opal of colour. ' 
And though the days are beautiful the nights are even 
better still ; for then in the short twilight hour the 
animal world is all astir. The baboons chatter in the 
rocks, the geese are heard among the reeds, the jackals 
wake up and trot over the plain, the water-bucks go 
to their favourite salt licks, the herons pass overhead 
to their fishing, and from the distance comes c the 
unearthly howl of hyenas and the discontented grunt 
of a lion. 5 In fact for Wollaston it was Paradise, and 
he would have liked to spend a lifetime there. But 
the railway recalled him and took him westward again 
into the Kavirondo country, a hot region full of fine 
natives very lightly attired — the men in ear-rings, 
the women in strings of beads and elegant coils of 
telegraph wire. And in no long time the train ran on 
to the pier at Port Florence on the Victoria Nyanza, 
and a dusky official called out ' All change ! ' to the 
one and only passenger. 

After this the journey was more comfortable. A 



276 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

perfect little ocean steamship, complete with white 
paint, glistening brasswork, electric lights and an Indian 
cook, took the passenger across the lake to Entebbe, 
the capital of Uganda ; and from there he started again 
on Christmas Eve in a two-runner rickshaw attended 
by a gang of native porters. A fortnight's march 
brought him to Toro, or Fort Portal, the capital of 
the Western Province of Uganda, and the most westerly 
British post. From here he got his first sight of 
Ruwenzori — ' a mighty wall of forest- covered ridges, 
which mount higher towards the south and dwindle 
away towards the northern plains like a headland in 
the sea ; deep valleys filled with trees and shadows ; 
in the far distance a towering mass of jagged rocks 
crinkled against the sky ; and over-topping all can just 
be seen two snow-clad peaks.' Here too he discovered 
that the name Ruwenzori is not known in that country 
at all : it is a word of our own, ' the mis-spelt corruption 
of a native word of very doubtful meaning.' It is 
however now a historic name, and a better sounding 
one than ; Gamballagalla,' by which the mountains 
are known to the people of Uganda. 

After leaving Toro the road went up hill, but the 
continual haze completely hid Ruwenzori for some days, 
till one morning Wollaston was roused from sleep by loud 
cries of ; Gamballagalla ! ' and saw the range close above 
him — first a mountain valley with wooded ridges ; above 
this a bold buttress of sheer black crags, and beyond 
these a towering snow peak. ' Poised almost upon the 
topmost pinnacle was the setting moon, a few days past 
the full. Whilst we looked the moon sank out of sight 
and a rosy flush spread over the ice and snow. A few 
moments more and the snow had vanished like a puff 



ALEXANDER WOLLASTON 277 

of smoke ; a flood of sunlight turned the black crags 
to a flaming orange, and the grass in the valley glittered 
with a million drops of dew.' A few minutes later he 
was fording the Mubuku river waist deep : then the 
valley narrowed suddenly, and turning a sharp corner 
he came in sight of his journey's end, the camp of 
the British Museum Expedition, perched high upon 
a ridge before him. An hour's steep climb, and his 
porters had dumped down the loads they had carried 
for 250 miles, and were off for home, dancing and 
cheering down the hill. 



3. The Conquest of Ruwenzori 

The other members of the British Museum party, 
who had arrived three weeks before, were Mr. R. B. 
Woosnam, late of the Worcestershire Regiment and 
now leader of the expedition, Mr. R. E. Dent, the Hon. 
Gerald Legge, and Mr. W. B. Carrutbers. Their camp was 
close to the native village of Bihunga, on a ridge so narrow 
that c if one had tried to pitch another tent, it would 
assuredly have fallen over the edge into one of the valleys 
below.' The natives of Bihunga were timid at first, 
but soon found that they could make a living out of 
the strangers, by hunting and bringing in beasts of any 
kind — hyraxes, gigantic rats, bats, mice, worms, beetles, 
chameleons, and snakes. These various creatures they 
did not touch, if they could help it, but brought them 
tethered with fibres or wrapped in leaves. 6 One of the 
most curious things that was brought was a single small 
beetle tied to a stick by a most ingenious harness about 
its middle ; it was a common species, of which we had 
many specimens, but it was bought and put to death 



278 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

for the sake of its harness, and now (I hope) it adorns 
the national collection.' 

As botanist too Wollaston had a wonderful time. 
The flowers of Ruwenzori are almost beyond belief, if 
only for their giant size. Begonias are two feet high, 
lobelias and tree-ferns twelve to fifteeen feet, brambles 
have flowers two inches across, and fruit as big as walnuts. 
Groundsels and St. John's wort grow to twenty feet. 
But the heath is the most astonishing of all : 6 The 
reader must imagine a stem of the common " ling " 
magnified to a height of sixty or seventy or even eighty 
feet, but bearing leaves and flowers hardly larger than 
those of the " ling " as it grows in England. Huge 
cushions of many-coloured mosses, often a foot or more 
deep, encircle the trunks and larger branches, while 
the finer twigs are festooned with long beards of dry 
lichen, which give to the trees an unspeakably dreary 
and funereal aspect.' Add to all these wonders the 
beauty of great clumps of brilliant flowers — red and 
yellow gloriosa lilies, white and yellow daisies and 
helichrysums, purple-flowered acanthus, tall white 
dombeyas, and papilionaceous bushes with yellow 
flowers and long black seed pods ; and remember that 
above and beyond these there were always the green 
ridges of the mountain forest and the towering peaks 
of rock and snow. Wollaston insists on the importance 
of the views. ' In a country where the greater part of 
one's time is spent dawdling along narrow tracks hedged 
in by walls of grass and bushes, whence nothing can be 
seen but the back of the man in front of you, or in 
groping blindly through tunnels of forest, the views 
acquire an importance which can hardly be realised in a 
country built upon a smaller scale. It is the views, 



ALEXANDER WOLLASTON 279 

seen or hoped for, which alone make travelling toler- 
able in Africa. 5 

The expedition remained in this camp for nearly 
four months. Of these the first, January, was the only 
fine one, and it brought them their only guests. An 
Austrian climber, Herr Grauer, with three members 
of the Church Missionary Society, stayed for several 
days on their way down from their climb in the Mubuku 
Valley, of which we have already heard. Herr Grauer 
had been defeated by wet weather, and spent most of 
his visit in removing from his person the Ruwenzori 
mud, with which the Englishmen were soon to make 
acquaintance in their turn. He was a delightful guest, 
and they were sorry when he departed. Other visitors 
to the neighbourhood, though not to the camp itself, 
were the chimpanzees, of whom there were great numbers 
in the forest, living on platforms of sticks built in the 
forks of high trees, and the lions, who occasionally 
came for a week-end's pig-hunting. ' Between Saturday 
and Monday they killed four wild boars within half a 
mile of the camp, and the shrieking of the unhappy 
victims was most terrible to hear ; there was no moon 
at the time, and the vegetation was too dense to make 
lion-hunting by candle-light an attractive amusement 
for anybody except the lions.' Besides the lions 
there were leopards too, who took sheep and goats, 
and seemed to prefer those belonging to the camp — 
at least the native goatherd always put down the losses 
to the camp account. 

The primary object of the expedition was to collect 
specimens ; it was therefore not till the latter half of 
February that they had time to think of climbing, and 
even then their equipment was a haphazard one. Herr 



280 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

Gran er had given them twenty -five feet of rope and a 
pair of crampons, but they had only one old ice axe, 
which Mr. Freshfield had left behind him at Toro ; 
worst of all, they had no portable tent, so that they 
could not make a base camp beyond the point to which 
their porters would consent to go, and that was not 
very far. Finally, the good weather was gone and the 
rainy season had set in. 

Still, it was impossible to leave Ruwenzori without 
making an attempt to win the great prize, and in 
one of the rare intervals of sunshine they set out for 
the upper regions. The rain closed down on them 
immediately, but they struggled along a knife-edged 
ridge 1,000 feet sheer above the Mubuku torrent and 
reached a huge erratic boulder called Vitaba by the 
natives, who are accustomed to shelter behind it, for 
it is ' as big as two four-roomed cottages rolled into 
one.' After leaving Vitaba they had to plunge into a 
thicket of bamboos, through which it was very hard 
to wriggle, especially for the Bakonjo porters with their 
loads on their heads. They went for miles through this 
tangle of stems, and at the end of the day reached the 
foot of a steep black precipice 400 or 500 feet high, 
called Kichuchu. Here they had to camp, on a small 
space of comparatively dry ground, only a few yards in 
extent, beneath an overhang of the rock. The floor 
was a quivering bog, and there was not room enough to 
pitch a tent, so they laid their bedding close to the foot 
of the cliff and as far as possible out of the way of the 
water which dripped down in a constant cascade. 

But these discomforts were not all. ' The most 
notable feature of the camp at Kichuchu was the 
nocturnal chorus of the Ruwenzori ghosts. It was 



ALEXANDER WOLLASTON 281 

always said by the natives that there were devils high 
up in the mountains, and anyone of a superstitious 
turn of mind who has slept, or tried to sleep, at Kichuchu 
could well believe it. So soon as it became dark, 
first one and then another shrill cry broke the silence ; 
then the burden was taken up by one high up on the 
cliff overhead, then by others on either side, until the 
whole valley was ringing with screams. Various theories 
were advanced to account for it : frogs, owls and devils 
were among the suggestions, but the natives declared 
that the noises were made by hyraxes, and we discovered 
afterwards that they were right. It is possible that 
each actual cry was not very loud, but the steep hill- 
sides and the bare wall of the cliff acted as sounding 
boards, which intensified the sound to an incredible 
extent. It was one of the most mournful and blood- 
curdling sounds I have ever heard,' says Wollaston, 
1 and it caused an uncomfortable thrill, even after 
we had been assured that it had not a supernatural 
origin.' 

Next day began the ascent of a series of gigantic 
steps or terraces from 500 to 1,000 feet in height, with 
about two miles of level between them. The first of 
these steps was the precipice above the encampment, 
and it was the worst to climb. It was dripping with 
water and brought the explorers out on to a terrace 
covered with giant heath trees growing very close 
together, with others decaying on the ground between 
them. But the porters hopped nimbly over these, and 
at 11,800 feet the party reached a sort of primeval 
swamp-garden with huge flowers growing out of dense 
moss-beds, and the Mubuku running through the middle 
of it as clear as an English trout stream. A slippery 



282 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

scramble across this garden brought them to their 
next camping place, Bujongolo, 12,461 feet up. 

Bujongolo was as uncomfortable as Kichuchu, and 
not less haunted — ten feet of ground under an over- 
hanging cliff, from which many huge blocks had already- 
fallen. The porters crept into holes and crannies among 
the rocks, the Englishmen sat huddled round a fire of 
sodden heath logs, which produced only an acrid and 
blinding smoke. As night fell huge bats two feet across 
the wings came out from the cliff, and flew noiselessly 
to the valley below. There were tracks of leopards 
and other wild cats round the camp, and to crown all 
the tired climbers were shaken out of their uneasy sleep 
by an earthquake of great severity. 6 Every moment, 5 
says Wollaston, c I expected to see the cliff, which 
made our roof, come crashing down to put an untimely 
end to our travels.' 

But the earthquake passed and day returned, and 
the explorers began to make plans for the attack on 
Ruwenzori. The first thing to do was to ascertain 
which was actually the highest peak of the range, for 
no one had yet discovered this ; in fact no one was 
sure how many peaks there were, or in what direction 
they lay from one another. There was the rock named 
by Herr Grauer c King Edward's Rock,' now renamed 
Grauer's Rock ; there was Kiyanja, which Sir Harry 
Johnston thought to be the true Ruwenzori, and two 
other twin peaks which he had named the Duwoni ; 
there was a big peak to the north-west, now called 
Savoia Peak, and further away to the north-west two 
beautiful sharp-pointed snow peaks which Wollaston 
afterwards estimated to be the highest of all — these 
are the two seen by Stanley and named Mount Stanley, 



ALEXANDER WOLLASTON 283 

but now rechristened Margharita Peak and Queen 
Alexandra Peak. 

The first expedition made by our party from 
Bujongolo was to the head of the Mubuku glacier and 
up to the top of Grauer's Rock. This they examined, 
and found that it was not, as Grauer had thought, the 
summit of the watershed, but only a ridge connecting 
a big buttress with the main chain. They returned 
therefore at once, and next day Wollaston and Woosnam 
set out for Kiyanja. They followed up a small stream, 
and soon got thoroughly bogged at an altitude of 
14,000 feet, where the least exertion was a labour. 
4 It only needed a word from one to the other of us, 
and we had beaten a retreat. 5 But neither spoke the 
word ; they laid down their cameras and all the food 
they could spare, and struggled on. At 14,500 feet they 
cleared the region of the lobelias, and at 14,800 feet they 
got onto rock. But the clouds had come low down, 
and to make sure of finding their way back was no 
easy matter. Here the old fairy tales came to mind 
and helped them out. They filled their pockets with 
the flower-heads of the c ever-lastings/ scattered them 
every few yards in the fog, like Hansel and Gretel, or 
Hop o' my Thumb in the story, and so went boldly 
forward to the top they had seen from below. 

They got safely back to camp that night, but on 
the way down, when a warm slant of sunshine pierced 
the fog, they saw that there was another top close by, 
some 150 feet higher than theirs — the peak afterwards 
named King Edward Peak. Their consolation was 
that they had done 15,840 feet, and been considerably 
higher than anyone before them. Also they could still 
try again in another direction. Their next course was 



284 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

obviously, they thought, to climb the peak on the north- 
east side of the Mubuku glacier and see whether it was 
actually one of the Duwoni or not. But as before 
the work of collecting had first to be done. They 
returned to Bihunga, and came back to Bujongolo at 
the end of March. On April 1, Woosnam, Carruthers, 
and Wollaston set out once more for the supposed 
Duwoni, They tried a new turn this time, and got 
into a steep and unpleasantly wet gully ; but it led 
them to the southern ridge of their objective. Then 
they luckily came upon snow slopes, which were easier 
work, and in rather less than six hours they reached 
a rocky point, climbed it, and found themselves on the 
top of the peak. Then the clouds parted enough to 
show them, as once before, a twin peak close to theirs. 
This time however the luck was with them ; they were 
on Duwoni, and their peak was the higher of the two. 
The twins were afterwards named by the Duke of the 
Abruzzi : Moore Peak 15,269 feet, and Wollaston Peak 
15,286 feet. 

There still remained the two peaks to the west, 
which Wollaston suspected of being higher still ; but 
though the party stayed three hours on Wollaston 
Peak they never got a glimpse of them. At last snow 
drove them down ; their gully was an ice-torrent, and 
they floundered through the swamp below by candle- 
light. But they were insatiable of discovery ; after 
one day's rest they ascended Kiyanja again in hopes 
of getting a decisive view of the lost peaks. But this 
time, too, fate was against them — they saw nothing but 
the top of King Edward Peak. 

They were now in the position of a runner who has 
made his effort and must ease off for a time, at the risk 



ALEXANDER WOLLASTON 285 

of his rival passing him. It is greatly to the English- 
men's credit that though their rival did pass them and 
win, he only did so by consulting them upon the one 
crucial point, the position of the two untouched peaks 
and the way to approach them. The Duke of the 
Abruzzi arrived at Toro at the end of May, with a 
thoroughly efficient party of guides, photographers, 
and friends, equipped in a professional manner which 
bore no relation to the single ice axe and secondhand 
rope of our naturalists ; he had but one object, the 
conquest of Ruwenzori, and he set about it with a royal 
thoroughness. His first preparation was to invite 
Wollaston to meet him at Toro, the rest of the expedi- 
tion being away shooting. This was a strange position 
for Wollaston. Acceptance meant giving his rival the 
game : it also meant walking sixty miles each way on 
a blazing hot road ; but the Italian was a really good 
mountaineer and the Englishman a really good sports- 
man. Wollaston went, and advised the Duke that 
if he proposed to reach the peaks from the Mubuku 
Valley he would probably find it necessary to cross the 
range (as he did in fact) by the low pass to the south 
of Kiyanja, and skirt the base of that mountain, which 
he himself had twice ascended. Then after setting 
the Italians a day's march on their way, he marched 
back to his own camp with ' many a bitter pang of 
envy.' Afterwards, he says, c I used to walk almost 
daily to a spot from which I could see the snows, and 
wish myself among them ; but the mountains were 
in the best possible hands, and the completely successful 
result of the Duke of the Abruzzi' s expedition is now a 
matter of history.' 

That is a gallant saying, and the Duke paid an 



286 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

honourable debt when he gave Wollaston a peak 
among the Kings and Queens of Italy and England. 
Our man lost ; but he won something too. Gaudet 
cognomine terra. 

4. The Largest Island in the World 

The British Museum Expedition broke up in October ; 
but while the other members made straight for home, 
Wollaston and Carruthers went back only as far as 
Entebbe, and from there set off westward again with a 
fresh train of forty porters, to see the great lakes and 
the Congo on their own account. They passed down 
the whole length of Lake Albert Edward, through the 
Mfumbiro range of volcanos, from end to end of Lake 
Kivu, down the western arm of Lake Tanganyika, 
across to the Congo, and down the whole course of that 
river to the sea. This was not, of course, exploring^ 
in the strict sense of the word, but it was travel of 
an enterprising and adventurous kind : to undertake 
such a journey voluntarily at the end of an expedition 
which had already lasted a year, was a characteristic 
example of the born traveller's spirit, the spirit which 
urges some men to go ' for ever roaming with a hungry 
heart, 5 like Ulysses in the poem. 

Certainly c I cannot rest from travel ' might well 
be Wollaston' s motto. He was always ready to start 
again, and he had only just time to write the account 
of his African journey when he was offered and accepted 
a chance to go still further afield. The expedition this 
time was to be sent out by the British Ornithologists' 
Union, and the proposal came once more from Mr. 
Ogilvie Grant, who was one of the members. The 



ALEXANDER WOLLASTON 287 

objective was to be Dutch New Guinea, where there was 
an unmapped range of snow mountains and a country 
stocked with unknown birds. Mr. Ogilvie Grant's 
suggestion was adopted, and at once aroused a good deal 
of public interest ; the Royal Geographical Society 
wished to share in the enterprise, and the funds required 
were soon subscribed. Then, as it appeared that a 
Dutch expedition was also on foot, under Mr. H. A. 
Lorentz, Sir Edward Grey at the Foreign Office undertook 
to arrange matters with the Netherlands Government 
to prevent overlapping and procure the necessary 
permission and military escort. 

The leader of the B.O.U. party was to be Mr. Walter 
Goodf ellow, who already knew the country ; of the other 
members, Messrs. Stalker and Shortridge were the 
naturalists, Captain Cecil Rawling — who had been in 
Tibet with Sir Francis Younghusband and had mapped 
that country — was surveyor, with an assistant surveyor, 
Mr. E. S. Marshall, who had just returned from the 
Antarctic with Sir Ernest Shackleton, and Mr. 
Wollaston was to be medical officer, botanist, and 
entomologist, as he had been before. The expedition 
started as a party of four by a P. and O. steamer from 
Marseilles, on October 29, 1909, and the rest of its 
personnel joined up as it proceeded on its way. Ten 
Gurkhas were picked up at Singapore. Mr. Shortridge 
was waiting at Batavia, the Dutch capital in Java, and 
there too was a special steamer generously provided by 
the Dutch Government, with the military escort under 
Lieutenant H. A. Cramer. At Amboina, which the 
steamer reached on December 30, they found Mr. Stalker, 
who had been recruiting coolies for them in advance. 
Finally, New Guinea was sighted on January 4, 1910. 



288 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

New Guinea, or Papua, is the largest island on the 
globe, and yet one of the least known to ordinary 
inhabitants of the civilised world. When Wollaston's 
book was published in 1912 it was almost sensationally 
novel ; few people in England had even realised that 
4 New Guinea ' and ' Papua * were two names for one 
and the same country, and he found it necessary to 
explain how the second name arose. c Papua comes 
from the Malay word papuwah, meaning :i woolly " or 
" fuzzy," and was first applied to the natives on account 
of their mops of hair ; later the name was applied to 
the island itelf.' As to the island, the information we 
had received from the geography books was mainly 
political and not very pleasant. We knew that the 
Dutch had owned the western half of the country for 
a long time, and that we had got hold of the eastern 
part in our casual sort of way, and supposed it to be 
British until one day the Germans annexed half of it 
and called it Kaiser Wilhelm Land, at the same time 
turning New Britain, New England, New Ireland, and 
other adjacent islands into fc Neu Pommern ' and the 
* Bismarck Archipelago.' The Australians protested at 
the time — they have re-arranged the map now — and 
by that we learned that New Guinea was only 100 
miles from the north coast of Australia. So much for 
the country ; as to the natives, who were the true and 
original owners of it, we probably knew that they were 
Malays, an obscure race of savages doing very little 
for us in the way of trade. Only specialists knew 
more than this. 

But the real interest of New Guinea does not lie 
in its political history or its commercial prospects : it 
is greater than even the specialists could ha\e guessed. 



ALEXANDER WOLLASTON 289 

Probably the British expedition themselves had no 
idea, when they started, of what they were actually 
fated to discover ; birds and snow mountains were 
less than the half of it. The fact is that in this island 
secrets were waiting for the explorer, secrets for which 
explorers have long been searching among the primitive 
races of the earth. We men of to-day, with our con- 
ventional manners and Dreadnoughts and champagne, 
are aware that we are descended from remote fore- 
fathers who had to get their living with more effort, 
more original inventiveness, and fewer inherited re- 
sources ; and in every race of savages our travellers 
have told us of we have hoped to find some picture of 
our own past. But of such a picture we get only 
glimpses ; we put together a detail or two, but the 
result is only fit for a case in a museum, it has no air of 
life about it. The reason of this is that the savages our 
explorers have studied were always, broadly speaking, 
in one of two classes. Powerful and numerous races, 
like those of Africa, were no longer really primitive : 
they possessed steel weapons and many of the arts of 
life ; they had apparently degenerated to some extent 
from a more advanced condition. On the other hand 
races elsewhere which had remained primitive were 
feeble ones, few in numbers and without the energy or 
inventiveness to use the resources of the earth. The 
blacks of Australia had no weapons at all, no boats, 
no crops, no villages ; they lived by fishing and gathering 
seeds, as we have heard in the story of Burke and Wills. 
We could never have come from helpless creatures like 
these. What the modern man of science longed to find 
was a numerous and healthy race, developing in a 
corner cut off from the rest of the world, and still at 



290 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

the early stage when the biggest ship was no bigger than 
the single tree it was made from, and when there were 
as yet no regulations for the use of alcohol or the 
expression of the emotions. Among such a people, if 
they existed, might be seen perhaps an image of the 
early world, not preserved in graves or collections of 
long disused weapons and ornaments, but alive and 
ready to be questioned. And not one but two such 
races were in Papua, waiting for Wollaston to record 
their life as he saw it from this end of time. 

5. Back in the Stone Age 

After sighting the island on January 4, the ship 
steamed along the coast to the mouth of the Mimika 
river. She was boarded on the way by some fifty 
natives in dug-out canoes, headed by one man in an 
old white cotton jacket fastened by a brass button 
with Queen Victoria's head upon it, and another hold- 
ing up an ancient Union Jack. To the explorers the 
appearance of such relics was unaccountable, for it 
is certain that no Englishman had ever been there 
before. They got rid of their uninvited guests with 
some difficulty, and next morning the steam launch 
was sent up the Mimika to prospect for a suitable base. 
Three miles up they came to the village of Wakatimi, 
and were given an astonishing reception by a thousand 
natives who crowded down the bank shouting shrilly ; 
men, women, and children flung themselves into the 
water, plastered themselves with mud, danced their 
peculiar wriggling dance, and shed tears of rapture. 
It was already evident that the white men had come to 
a very primitive world ; they pitched camp opposite 



ALEXANDER WOLLASTON 291 

to Wakatimi, and the two races, the ancient and the 
modern, began to make acquaintance. 

Trade of course was the first link : the natives 
helped the whites in hut building and were delighted 
to be paid in beads and cloth. Then they brought 
live birds for sale, and delicious prawns six or eight 
inches long ; and then every kind of possession, axes, 
clubs, bows and arrows, spears and drums, and even 
the skulls of their ancestors. What they most desired in 
exchange for these were' knives, bottles, and empty 
tins, and of these the expedition had naturally a good 
supply to spare as time went on. Clothes also were 
in great demand, but these were ruled out : the Papuan 
looked a gentleman in his own skin, but a degraded 
creature in European rags. 

The houses of Wakatimi are thatched, and built 
in long rows, or rather a single long house is built with- 
out internal partitions, and is divided between fifty or 
sixty families, who each keep to their own section and 
have a separate door. When they are all indoors and 
a number of fires are burning, the atmosphere inside 
one of these barracks is indescribable. Outside, the 
street opposite the houses is bordered with fine cocoanut 
palms, 300 or 400 in a grove, very picturesque and 
pleasantly shady. The nuts are heavy and dangerous 
when a wind brings them crashing down ; but they are 
one of the principal sources of w r ealth to the people, 
who exchange them with their neighbours for tobacco 
and bananas. 

Another common species of palm is the sugar palm, 
prized still more by the natives because it is a kind of 
automatic wine shop. ' When the palm is in fruit — it 
bears a heavy bunch of dark green fruit —a cut is made 



292 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

in the stem below the stalk of the fruit, and the juice 
trickles out and is collected in the shell of a cocoanut. 
Apparently the juice ferments very rapidly without 
the addition of any other substance, for it is drunk 
almost as soon as it is collected, and the native becomes 
horribly intoxicated. 5 So says Wollaston, and he 
follows this with observations which seem to bring the 
ancient and modern worlds very near together. ' Dur- 
ing the first few weeks of our stay the people were on 
their good behaviour, or else they found sufficient amuse- 
ment in coming to see us and our works ; but they soon 
tired of that and went back to their normal habits. 
Many of them went to the drinking place by day, and 
we often saw them lying or sitting at the foot of the 
tree, while one of their party stood at the top of a 
bamboo ladder collecting the palm wine. But the worst 
was a small gang of about a dozen men, the laziest in 
the village, whose custom it was to start off towards 
evening in canoes to their favourite drinking tree, where 
they spent the night drinking and making night hideous 
with their songs and shouts. In the morning they 
returned raving to the village, and as often as not 
they started quarrelling and fighting and knocking the 
houses to pieces before they settled down to sleep off 
the effects of their potations. Sometimes even the 
women drank. One came over one day in a canoe with 
her husband ; it was pouring with rain and the boat 
was half full of water, but the couple danced up and 
down and sang a drunken ditty — it was a ludicrous 
and at the same time a heart-rending exhibition. 5 The 
man had been a fine athletic fellow when they first 
saw him, but in a few months he was hardly ever sober, 
and within the year he died. Another of the principal 



ALEXANDER WOLLASTON 



293 



men of Wakatimi one day came to the river quite drunk, 
moored his canoe in mid-stream, and shot arrows pro- 
miscuously at the village and the camp, raving and 
shouting furiously. Finally, when his wife came and 
told him her opinion of him, he shot at her too ; but she 




Aw 
* The Papuan looked a gentleman in his own skin.' 



got him ashore, broke his remaining arrows across her 
knee, and scolded him home like a whipped and ashamed 
dog. 

But the average Papuans have no time for drink, 
they are too much occupied, men and women, with the 
everlasting search for food, which is naturally the first 
object of human life, though civilisation partly conceals 



294 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

the fact. In Papua there is not much cultivation — 
the crops are never nearly sufficient to feed the popu- 
lation. A large part of the food supply is got by hunting 
game in the jungle and fish in the rivers or along the 
coast. The women collect sago from the sago palms 
and shell-fish from the mud banks. The men get the 
larger kinds of fish either with a hook and line, or by 
spearing them in shallow water, or by shooting them 
with arrows ; but they are absurdly bad shots with either 
weapon. Still, they are born fishermen, as may be seen 
from a note of Wollaston's. ' The sight of a fish, how- 
ever small it is, always rouses a Papuan to action. 
When we were travelling with natives we sometimes 
came to pools where small fish had been left by some 
receding flood. Instantly their loads were thrown 
down and everyone darted into the water with sticks and 
stones and shouts with as much enthusiasm as if the 
fish had been salmon and a full meal for everyone.' 
English boys, and not very young ones, have been 
known to feel much the same — the sight of a fish is 
more full of sport than the sight of fox or pheasant. 

But the Papuan thinks even more highly of a pig 
than a fish. He seems to realise that of all animals 
in existence the pig is the most useful to man ; he not 
only hunts pigs in the jungle, and keeps them tame in 
the village, but he has a kind of reverence for everything 
connected with them, treasures their jawbones and 
even hangs up in a conspicuous place the grass and 
leaves in which the dead animals have been wrapped, 
and the ropes used for tying them up and dragging them 
home from the jungle. The solemn killing of pigs was 
the only elaborate popular ceremony that the explorers 
witnessed during their stay. Mr. Marshall describes 



ALEXANDER WOLLASTON 295 

the scene as beginning overnight with a big bonfire and 
a great deal of howling and yelling, as if to drive away 
evil spirits. Soon after daybreak the Englishmen were 
fetched and given front places. ; First of all the women, 
draped in leaves, slowly walked down the beach, driving 
two full-grown boars in front of them, and then dis- 
appeared in the jungle. About 150 men, with faces 
painted and heads and spears decorated with feathers, 
formed up in three sides of a square, one end of which 
was occupied by a band of tom-toms. A slow advance 
on the village then commenced, the men shouting in 
chorus and the women dancing on the outskirts. The 
centre of the square was occupied by single individuals 
who, following each other in quick succession, gave a 
warlike display, finally shooting arrows far over the 
trees. The next scene took place around a large sloping 
erection which we soon found was* an altar, on which 
the two boars were about to be sacrificed. The women 
and boars who had disappeared into the forest now 
marched from the jungle at the far end of the village. 
The boars were seized, and a struggle with the animals 
ensued, but the two huge brutes were bound up with 
rattan, chalk meanwhile being rubbed into their eyes, 
apparently in order to blind them. The women set up a 
tremendous wailing, and appeared on the scene plastered 
in wet mud from head to foot. The two boars, on each 
of which a man sat astride, were now hoisted up and 
carried to the altar, on which the animals were tightly 
lashed. Then amid much shouting, tom-tomming and 
fanatical displays, the boars were clubbed to death. 
As soon as life was extinct the women cut the carcases 
free, and pulling them to the ground, threw themselves 
on the dead bodies, wailing loudly and plastering them- 



296 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

selves with wet mud in ecstasies of grief. This continued 
for some ten minutes, when the men, many of whom 
were covered with mud and uttered strange dirges, 
picked up the bodies, and the whole assembly following 
suit marched into the river, where a much needed 
washing took place. . . . The whole performance lasted 
about an hour and a half.' When we read this vivid 
description it is hardly possible that we should not be 
reminded of a conflict of feelings which will occur at 
times in people of our own time and customs, though 
we have for many generations now been taught to ignore 
it : the conflict between a natural reluctance to kill our 
brother the Pig, and an equally natural desire to trans- 
late him into Pork. And anyone who is familiar with 
Stonehenge and its huge altar stone will have no diffi- 
culty in picturing our own ancestors conducting there 
just such a ceremony with perhaps much the same 
open display of emotions. Another ancient set of 
feelings which we admittedly share with the Papuans 
are those connected with our little brother the Dog. 
The Papuan dogs are very sociable : they like to go 
on journeys with their masters, and are particularly 
fond of being taken in the canoes, in each of which two or 
three dogs may commonly be seen. They are sharp-nosed 
and prick-eared anjmals, about the size of a Welsh terrier, 
yellow, brown, or black, with an upstanding white-tipped 
tail. Only one was seen with a thick furry coat, like 
a Chow. They are invaluable to the Papuans, who 
could never catch any game without them ; and when 
one was once shot in the act of stealing, all the people 
of the village began to wail for it as they do when a 
man dies, and the owner smeared himself with mud 
and mourned bitterly. He may have exaggerated in 




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298 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

order to get more compensation, but Wollaston felt 
that his grief was a genuine emotion. 

Lastly we come to the weapons and implements 
of the Papuans, of which Wollaston's book contains 
pictures most beautifully drawn and coloured. The 
bows are of wood, the arrows and fish spears of wood, 
with sharp points of harder wood ; some arrows are 
tipped with a single cassowary claw, and the large 
hunting spears are pointed with long sharp pieces 
of bone. The clubs and axes are very powerful instru- 
ments with wooden handles and stone heads. It is 
difficult to conceive the skill and industry which must 
have gone to the making of all these tools and weapons ; 
it must be remembered that until the expedition 
reached this part of the country the natives had no 
metal tools whatever, and all their work was done with 
bits of sharp shell and lumps of stone. 

The few items of evidence which we have picked 
out from this book all point irresistibly to one con- 
clusion. We have seen that the Papuans of to-day have 
no knowledge of the use of bronze or iron ; there they 
are many centuries behind any race recorded in history. 
On the other hand they have developed beyond the 
feeble tribes which have now passed away, or are dying 
out, like the Australian blacks. They are at the stage 
when men had perfected the use of stone, wood, and bone 
for implements, when they had begun to cultivate crops 
for food, and to keep domestic animals. These three 
points all mark them out as belonging to what anthro- 
pologists call the later Stone Age, the age of Neolithic 
Man. Now it is generally accepted as certain that what- 
ever our earliest origin may have been, our ancestors 
of about six or eight thousand years ago were Neolithic 



ALEXANDER WOLLASTON 



299 



men. In looking then at the Papuans, their houses, 
weapons, wine, dogs, canoes, pigs, and ceremonies, 
Wollaston and his companions could not but realise 
that they were looking at the life of their own race at 




' Sitting outside his hut sharpening an axe.' 



a remote period — so remote that no written record of 
it has come down to us. And not only were they looking 
at it as a picture, but they saw it as real life, an ancient 
life but a real one, which they could touch and share to- 
day, though they were separated from it by a difference in 
time and civilisation of thousands of years. Wollaston 



300 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

relates how one day after his arrival at Wakatimi he 
found a man who appeared to be the stone smith of the 
village. C I remember, 5 he says, 'seeing him sitting 
outside his hut sharpening an axe, with three or four 
others lying beside him waiting to be done, while a few 
yards away a woman was splitting a log of wood with 
a stone axe. It struck me as being one of the most 
primitive scenes I had ever witnessed, really a glimpse 
of the Stone Age.' And probably no explorer has ever 
travelled further than that, or made a more fascinating 
discovery. 

6. The Pygmies 

The expedition could not of course be content with 
a single base camp at Wakatimi ; they were no sooner 
settled there than they began to form a second one 
at Parimau, further up the Mimika river. The distance 
of this from Wakatimi was only twenty-two miles as 
the crow flies, but by water it was forty miles, and 
took from five to seven days to travel in a canoe, 
according to the state of the river and the health of 
the coolies who worked at the transport of stores. 
The establishment of the Parimau camp was therefore 
a slow business, and as it was itself twelve miles from 
the mountains a third camp was planned at the same 
time still further inland. 

During this time Captain Cecil Rawling was busy 
surveying the country, and had reached the big river 
Kapare, north-west of Parimau, when one day, as he 
was walking up the river bed, the Papuans who were 
with him pursued and captured a wholly unexpected 
kind of game — two small men, whose build and dress 
and appearance showed them to belong to another 



ALEXANDER WOLLASTON 301 

race than the Papuan. A day or two later two more 
were captured ; they were all kindly treated by Captain 
Rawling, who gave them presents and hoped they 
would take him to their home, a large clearing in the 
jungle on the side of Mount Tapiro, which was within 
sight of the Kapare. But they showed no inclination 
to do this, so Rawling had to content himself with 
resolving to make his own way there when he could 
find an opportunity. He was naturally most eager 
to do so, for these little men were obviously of a race 
of Pygmies. The Papuans, it afterwards appeared, 
already knew them, and called them Tapiro, after the 
mountain where they lived. 

At the beginning of March, Wollaston came with 
one of the food transports up the Mimika, and went 
with Rawling out to the Kapare, where he had made 
a camp, and was occupied with some of the Gurkhas 
in cutting a track through the jungle. From this 
upper camp the two explorers made two attempts to 
reach the forest clearing of the Tapiro, which could 
be easily seen from the camp at a distance of about 
three miles in a straight line ; but though they took 
careful bearings of its direction, it turned out to be a 
most puzzling place to reach. In their first attempt 
to find this clearing they wandered in the jungle for 
ten hours, and came nowhere near it. But the day 
was not altogether wasted, for they climbed up the 
hillside to about 1,500 feet, and by cutting down some 
trees they got a wonderful view across the plain of the 
jungle and away to the distant sea. The air of the 
jungle was heavily scented with wild vanilla, and all 
around they could hear, though they could not see, 
the Greater Birds of Paradise, and sometimes they 



302 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

were within sound of as many as six at the same moment. 
They also got their first sight of the Rifle Bird, one of 
the most beautiful of the Birds of Paradise, whose cry 
is a long-drawn whistle which Wollaston says c can never 
be mistaken or forgotten.' 

The second attempt is more fully described in his 
diary. 

6 Rawling and I left camp early with two Gurkhas. 
A mile and a half up the left bank of the river 
we struck off N.E. from the path we followed the 
other day. Cut a new path through the jungle for 
about a mile until we came to a faint native track, 
which we followed for another mile or so, chiefly among 
fallen tree trunks overhung by a network of rattan 
and other creepers, a fearful struggle to get through. 
Then for a mile or more up the bed of a stony stream 
encumbered with the same obstructions, dead trees 
and rattans, until we came to a deep gorge with a 
torrent about 300 feet below us, and on the opposite 
side the steep slope of another great spur of the 
mountain, on which the clearing presumably lay. We 
slithered and scrambled down to the river, which was 
full of water, and only just fordable. Then up the 
other slope, not knowing at all accurately the direction 
of the clearing. Very steep, and the jungle very dense 
with rattan and tree ferns, so the leading Gurkha 
was kept busily occupied in cutting with his kukri, 
and progress was slow. 

' About one o'clock, when we had been going fo 
nearly six hours, the clouds came down and it began 
to rain, and we were ready to turn back. Luckily the 
Gurkhas were convinced that the clearing was not 



ALEXANDER WOLLASTON 303 

far ahead, and when we found a pig trap — a noose of 
rattan set in a faint track — it seemed that they might 
perhaps be right. So we went on, and in a few minutes 
we came out of the forest into the clearing. About 
thirty yards from us was a hut with three men standing 
outside it. We called out to them and they waited 
until we came up. A minute or two later, two more 
men came out from the forest behind us ; no doubt 
they had been following us unseen. The hut was a 
most primitive structure of sticks, roofed with leaves, 
leaning up against the hillside. There was a fire in 
the hut, and beside it was sitting an old man covered 
with most horrible sores. We went on up the hill for a 
couple of hundred yards to a place about 1,900 feet 
above the sea, where we had a fine view. Rawling 
put up the plane-table and got angles on to several 
points for the map. 

6 During the hour or more that we stayed there, 
eight men came to see us. Excepting one rather 
masterful little man, who had no fear of us, they were 
too shy to approach us closely, and remained about 
ten yards distant, but even so it was plainly evident, 
from their small stature alone, that they were of a 
different race from the people of the low country. 

< The most remarkable thing about them is the case 
that each man wears, his only article of clothing ; it 
is made of a long yellow gourd, and gives him a most 
extraordinary appearance. Every man carries a bow 
and arrows in his hand and a plaited fibre bag of quite 
elaborate design slung on his back. Two men wore 
necklaces of shell, and one had a strip of fur round his 
head. Two others wore on their heads curious helmet- 
like hats of grass, ornamented with feathers. 



304 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

6 One man had a diminutive axe made of a piece 
of soft iron, about three inches long, set in a handle 
like those of the stone axes. They must have some 
bigger axes, as they have cut down some very large 
trees, and the marks on the stumps look as if they had 
been made with fairly sharp instruments. The clearing 
altogether is very considerable, probably fifty acres or 
more. The ground is covered with the sweet-potato 
plant, and in many places "taro" has been carefully 
picked out. They have a few coarse-looking bananas, 
some of which they offered us. 

< Their voices are rather high pitched, and one of 
them, who met us first and called several of the others 
to come and see us, ended his calls with a very curious 
shrill jodelling note. When we came away we offered 
them cloth and beads to come with us and show us a 
better way, but they were either too frightened or 
too lazy to do so. We got back to camp after ten 
hours hard going, drenched with rain and covered with 
leeches, but well pleased with the success of the day.' 

After this the Pygmies came occasionally in parties 
of three or four to visit the camp at Parimau. They 
were warmly welcomed by the Papuans, in whose 
houses they used to stay for several days at a time. 
It was noticeable that when they came to the village 
of Parimau they came without their bows and arrows, 
which they always carried at other times — probably 
they had left them hidden in the jungle. In the same 
way the Papuans when visiting the Tapiro always 
left their spears behind them at the last camp before 
they reached the Pygmy village ; a very good piece 
of primeval etiquette. 



ALEXANDER WOLLASTON 305 

The explorers in their turn paid visits to the 
Pygmies, who showed them the right way with some 
reluctance. It was a very ancient secret that they 
were giving away, for even the Papuans appear not 
to have guessed it, after living near them for no one 
knows how long. The Tapiro village was called 
Wamberi Merberi, and Wollaston found that it was 
actually within a stone's-throw of the large clearing 
which Rawling and he had reached with so much diffi- 
culty. By the Pygmies' own track it was an easy walk 
of two or three hours from the Kapare river. 

The notes made by the explorers about these little 
people are very interesting. The Pygmy men averaged 
4 feet 9 inches in height, though some were only 4 feet 
2 inches. By contrast with the Papuans they looked 
extremely small, and Wollaston remarked that though 
many of the Malay coolies with the expedition were 
no taller, the coolies looked merely undersized and 
somewhat stunted men, the Tapiro looked empha- 
tically little men. They are cleanly built, active- 
looking little fellows, a race of mountaineers, and 
their well-made calves contrast markedly with the 
long straight legs of the Papuans. They walk with 
an easy swinging gait, the knees a little bent and the 
body slightly leaning forwards. Their skin is paler 
than that of the Papuans — some of them are almost 
yellow — but they are very dirty and smear their faces 
with a black oily mixture. All of them have the central 
membrane of the nose pierced and adorned with a 
slip of boar's tusk or bone. Their hair is short and 
woolly, black or sometimes brown, and occasionally 
made lighter with a treatment by lime or mud. The 
younger men have whiskers and the older ones beards ; 

z 



306 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

their eyes are large and round, with a sleepy and dog- 
like expression. 

They adorn themselves with arm bands, leg bands, 
or necklaces ; but their most ornamental possessions 
are their bags of fine coloured fibres ; they each carry 
a large and a small one, and in these they keep all their 
property — shell ornaments, flint knives exactly like 
those found in our own country, short daggers of 
sharpened cassowary bone, sleeping-mat, tobacco, with 
firestick and rattan and tinder. The tobacco is smoked 
chiefly in cigarettes, made with thin slips of dry 
pandanus leaf. But the Tapiro use pipes too ; their 
form of pipe is a single cylinder of bamboo about an 
inch in diameter and a few inches in length. The 
smoker rolls a small plug of tobacco, and pushes it 
down to about the middle of the pipe, then holds it 
upright between his lips, and draws out the smoke 
from below. 

The fire is obtained with an apparatus in three 
parts, a split stick, a rattan, and tinder. The split 
stick is held open by a small pebble placed between 
the split halves. The rattan is a long coiled piece 
of split rattan cane fibre, and the tinder is of dried 
moss or a bit of the sheath of a palm shoot. The 
method of making fire is as follows. In the split of 
the stick, between the pebble and the solid part, is 
placed a bit of tinder. The Tapiro lays the stick on 
the ground and puts his foot on the solid unsplit end 
to hold it. Then, having unwound a yard of the rattan, 
he passes it under the stick at the point where the 
tinder is placed, and see-saws it backwards and for- 
wards with extreme rapidity. In from ten to thirty 
seconds the rattan wears through and snaps, but he 



ALEXANDER WOLLASTON 307 

picks up the stick with the tinder, which has probably 
begun by this time to smoulder, and blows it into flame. 
The explorers only succeeded in making fire in this way 
with great difficulty and after many attempts, but 
the Tapiro do it with the utmost ease, and scorned the 
boxes of matches which the white men offered them. 

Of all the possessions of the Pygmies, by far the 
most interesting were these two — the firesticks and 
the flint knives. Wollaston was profoundly impressed 
by seeing them in use ; and no wonder, for here again, 
as in the Papuan village, he was looking back into the 
life of our own forerunners of thousands of years ago. 
With some such instrument as this they too lit their 
daily fire ; with just such flint knives as these, made 
in exactly the same way, they too carved their bows, 
pointed their arrows of wood, worked their bowls and 
platters, and cut their strings of fibre or of tendon. 
Wollaston, like other men of science, had long known 
this much of primitive life and its resources, but he 
had probably felt it difficult to realise the courage 
and skill and dexterity with which little Neolithic 
Man got his living in a difficult world, and to picture 
him in the act of doing it. And here after all he saw 
the whole life before his eyes — no picture, but a day- 
light reality. 

7. Jungle-bound 

The explorers had achieved some of the most 
interesting experiences which can fall to the lot of 
any discoverer : they had found the Ancient World, 
thought to have passed away long since, complete 
with all its birds and beasts and tribes of men. But 
one of their objects had eluded them entirely : they 



308 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

never succeeded in setting foot on the Snow Mountains, 
though they made many attempts, and were for months 
within forty miles of them. The Dutch explorer, Mr. 
Lorentz, was more fortunate ; he was better informed 
as to the right way of approach, and in this expedition, 
which was his second, he succeeded in climbing Mount 
Wilhelmina, and visited the English camp at Wakatimi 
on his way back. He had fallen down a cliff on his 
return, with the result of two broken ribs and serious 
concussion of the brain, and he had endured untold 
sufferings before he reached the foot of the mountain. 
But it is evident that the Englishmen envied him. 
4 He had achieved the principal object of his expedi- 
tion/ says Wollaston, c and his spirits were in better 
condition than his body.' 

After this, from April to December, the British 
expedition had a hard and disappointing time of it, 
jungle-bound and struggling continually with bad 
weather, floods, and sickness. The Malay coolies 
suffered fearfully, and became quite incompetent as 
carriers. One day one of them, who was down with 
fever, suddenly went mad and knifed another ; but 
the victim happily recovered. A much worse affair 
took place between a coolie and one of the Javanese 
of the Dutch escort, who were mostly convicts released 
for service with the British expedition. ' These two 
men quarrelled one morning about some trifle connected 
with their food, and before anybody knew what was 
amiss, knives were out and one of them was chasing 
the other through the camp. By a clever backward 
thrust the pursued man dealt the pursuer a deep 
wound under the heart ; but he was unable to escape 
before the pursuer had given him too a mortal wound. 



ALEXANDER WOLLASTON 309 

One died in a few minutes, and the other during the 
course of the day, fortunately perhaps for both of them.' 
On another occasion one of the Javanese soldiers, also 
ill with fever, suddenly stabbed another man while in 
the ship off the coast, and then threw himself over- 
board into the sea. But the plunge cooled his fury, 
and his cure was completed by the sight of a sea-snake 
swimming not far from him. These sea-snakes are 
big yellow creatures with dark markings ; they are 
three or four feet in length, and as they travel in large 
numbers together, and have the reputation of even 
climbing up the sides of ships, the Javanese had some 
reason for his terror. He swam hastily back, and was 
glad to be taken on board again. 

The Gurkhas, of course, were much better and more 
useful men. When the expedition was moving inland 
and the almost impassable river Iwaka had to be 
crossed, three of them showed really remarkable skill 
and courage. All attempts to bridge the torrent having 
proved futile, a reward was offered to the first man 
across. Two Gurkhas thereupon sallied forth with 
axes, and succeeded in felling a tree so cleverly that 
it just reached the other bank and held there. Before 
nightfall they had crossed on this shaky bridge and 
made fast a rope of rattan from side to side of the 
river, as a basis for real bridge building next day. 
But during the night the river rose and swept the tree 
away ; only the rattan rope remained, and at first 
it seemed impossible for anyone to cross by so slender 
a means, even for the large reward which was again 
offered. Then a Gurkha named Jangbir said he would 
go. What he had to do was to drag himself hand over 
hand along the rope, with the torrent tugging at his 



310 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

legs all the time. In case the rope should snap, a 
second rattan was made fast round his waist, to give 
his companions a bare chance of being able to haul 
him back to shore ; but this rattan had to be thin, or 
its weight would have been too much for him when he 
got far out. He started finely, and though the torrent 
dragged him out full length, he get nearly across ; 
but then his strength began to fail. The danger was 
that the rope would break, or that he would fall from 
it, and the strain then snap the rattan attached to his 
waist — it was by now sagging down into the water in 
midstream. The party on shore tried to lift it clear 
of the surface by hauling on it, and then the most 
fortunate of all the chances happened — the waist line 
broke and came away, and the gallant little Gurkha, 
feeling suddenly lightened by this, made a supreme 
effort and pulled himself the rest of the way to the 
further bank. Other ropes were then thrown over 
and secured, and a rattan bridge of 100 feet span was 
completed by which the whole party crossed. The 
whole idea and most of the work was due to the 
Gurkhas. 

On the high ground beyond the Iwaka the explorers 
found really beautiful scenery, and after the Gurkhas 
had for four days cut a path through trees and 
scented scrub they gained a ridge 5,800 feet high, from 
which a superb view could be seen. There before them 
rose Mount Godman and Wataikwa Mountain ; between 
and beyond these, the tremendous cliffs of Mount 
Leonard Darwin, 13,882 feet in height, of which 10,000 
feet is an almost vertical precipice ; to the west the 
Charles Louis range; to the east the Cock's Comb, 
behind which banks of cloud hid the summit of Mount 




They had crossed on this shaky bridge.' 



312 THE BOOK OF THE LONG TRAIL 

Carstensz. Below them lay innumerable rivers, glitter- 
ing in the sun, among them the four which they had 
crossed with so much labour, the Tuaba, Kamura, 
Wataikwa and Iwaka. c During the following days, 5 
says Wollaston, 4 while we were stumbling back to 
Parimau, along the now familiar track, we wondered 
whether we should be the last as well as the first 
Europeans to penetrate into that forsaken region. It 
has been mapped now, and our wanderings have shown 
that it is not the way by which any sane person would 
go who wished to explore the Snow Mountains. It is 
a region absolutely without inhabitants, and the 
Papuans who live on the upper waters of the Mimika 
and Kamura rivers shun it even as a hunting-ground. 
There are no precious metals to be won, and not until 
all the other forests in the world are cut down will its 
timber be of value. So it may safely be supposed that 
it will long be left untouched ; the Birds of Paradise 
will call by day, the cassowaries will boom by night, 
and the leeches will stretch themselves anxiously on 
their leaves, but it will be a long time before another 
white man comes to disturb them/ 



Printed by Spottiswoode, Ballantyne & Co. Ltd 
Colchester, London & Eton, England 



